Rogue Agents
by Tragediane
Summary: After a harrowing car chase, G Callen's work at the DEA comes back to haunt him. As G remembers what happened years ago on a top secret joint CIA and DEA operation, Sam provides a safe haven for his partner. G/Sam Slash. Guest appearance by Jethro.
1. Ghost Chaser, Prologue

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Title: Rogue Agents**

**Rating: M**

**Story Premise: ** After a harrowing car chase, G Callen's work at the DEA comes back to haunt him. As G remembers what happened years ago on a top secret joint CIA and DEA operation, Sam provides a safe haven for his partner. Guest appearance by Jethro.

**Category: **A romance/hurt/comfort slash story.

**WARNINGS:**

**Slash: **G/Sam

**Darkfic: **Story includes coarse language, rape, non-consensual sex, angst, torture, violence, betrayal, hurt/comfort, mental, emotional, and physical trauma. Mind control. Programming. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) with flashbacks, nightmares, reliving the trauma, night terrors, anxiety and panic attacks, etc.

**Whump: **A major G Callen whump ahead.

**DISCLAIMER: **NCIS: Los Angeles and its characters are owned by CBS and the producers of it. I do not own anything, but if I did I would torture G Callen more and make him cry and suffer and have plenty of angst. I am grateful to CBS and the producers of NCIS: LA for their contribution to the world of entertainment.

_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. This is a work intended for entertainment __**outside the official storyline**__ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA._ I gain no profit from the creation and publication of this story. I love to play in the sandbox with the characters and their lives. I especially love to torture G Callen. It is fun!

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

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><p><strong>Ghost Chaser<strong>

**Prologue**

G. Callen chased their ghost through the rain slicked streets of Woodland Hills in his Mercedes C63 AMG.

It was the first time the suspect left the last location since NCIS's elite team started their surveillance of his house three months ago. The team had tracked the suspect for over a year, and in that time the man had made two moves. First, their ghost moved from a house in Santa Monica to Studio City and second from Studio City to Woodland Hills. G suspected this was the suspect's third move, and yet he did not see any suitcases.

G chose not to wait for his partner, Sam, to show up before he took off after the suspect on his own. With this case in particular, he obsessed about tracking the unsub. Sam informed him that he was less than five miles out. Too long. Yeah, he was obsessed and could not lose their ghost in traffic or one of the many subsidiary streets in the Woodland Hills suburban neighborhood.

In a way, G was pleased with the current situation in their partnership. He pressed for surveillance without Sam and his partner readily agreed. That was odd for Sam. The more time they tracked this unsub together, the more antsy G became about their partnership. It was the unsaid thoughts and feelings between them which drove him to the brink of asking Sam what he was thinking. Yet, he held back even though he knew there was something different between them.

His partner's wife had left several years ago citing irreconcilable differences due to Sam's job and his time away from her. Ever since then, G noticed a change in their partnership. Sam was on edge for the last couple of months, which was unusual for him, and glanced his way more often during an ops, in the OPS Center, and in the bullpen. With the mien on his partner's face, G decided to take more assignments apart from him. A great avoider, G took the easy way out and negotiated with Sam for more days on his own.

Damn, now he wished he had asked him instead of avoiding him. The tension between them was higher than ever before, to the point that Kens had asked G what was happening between his partner and him. Hetty was soon to be nosing around in their partnership. He loathed her questions on top of his own unanswered questions. Maybe it was time to talk to Sam and end this false sense of calm and the pseudo partnership they now had.

G raced down a side street keeping close on the unsub's trail as he sped through a residential area. After turning a corner at over 25 miles per hour, he started to lose control of his Mercedes. With the skills he learned through a defensive driving and high-speed chase course—he finally passed the course after going through it twice—G regained control of his vehicle and sped down another street paralleling the 101.

His methods for high-speed chases failed to meet with those of NCIS's standards, thus the necessity to attend the course twice. Sam rattled his case about his failure to pass the course the first time. It was a joke, but G was not always laughing at his partner's needling on this. He preferred his own methods to those of NCIS's.

And Sam chastised him for calling it the 101. 'It's the Ventura Freeway, G.' The man memorized the official name of every freeway in Los Angeles County. Too bad they failed to teach that in the defensive driving and high-speed chase course. Although, G determined long ago that calling the freeways by their numbers fit his way of thinking better and he stuck to his way on this one.

Not wanting to lose his ghost on the freeway and have his efforts wasted, G pressed the gas peddle closer to the floorboard. The Mercedes careened around the next corner at a high-speed. He took the last corner at over 25 miles per hour and that was risky. Over 35 miles per hour was dangerous on flooded streets. When the rear end of his car fishtailed at the turn's highest arc, he knew his speed was excessive for a high-speed chase which involved a tight turn on a rain soaked street in Los Angeles. Earlier G had watched several downpours cause massive runoffs from the bone dry ground as the water did not soak into the soil. The Mercedes's rear wheels slid sideways on the wet pavement loosing their grip on the slick, oily asphalt.

For the next 120-seconds, everything around him played out in slow motion and G believed he was going die this time. No seatbelt. In his mind, he imagined hearing Hetty say her famous line, 'going rip you a new one.' Maybe this time, the Man Upstairs planned to rip him a new one too.


	2. Delaminated Glass, Ch 1

**A major G whump chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. I enjoyed writing it. Same comes to the rescue.**

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><p><strong>Title: Rogue Agents<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

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><p><strong>Reviews appreciated and welcomed.<strong>

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><p><strong>Delaminated Glass<strong>

**Chapter 1**

The Mercedes twisted in a figure eight in midair three times and flipped back over front once before coming to rest on all four wheels. With his quick reflexes honed through many years as an undercover agent, G covered his head and face with both arms. The car's forward momentum launched him through the windshield. He landed on the hood face down. G shrieked.

During the first several minutes after the accident, he attempted to perform several physical assessments on his own injuries. Instead, he slipped in and out of consciousness. In one of his more lucid moments, G was aware of two hands palpating his body from head to toe to determine the extent of his injuries. He yelped once and flinched, pulling away from the pain which rippled through his body as if they were aftershocks from an earthquake. Two strong arms lifted him off the hood of the Mercedes. G moaned when the person set him down in the reclined front seat of a car. He stifled a whimper and grimaced every time the car turned a corner or made a sudden move to the left or right. "Stop doing that." He mumbled in his semiconscious state. "Hurts." When the car stopped, the same two strong arms lifted him off the seat and into the person's arms. The baby fresh scent of the person was familiar. It taxed his body and brain too much to remember the person's name.

Minutes later, the person laid him face down on a soft surface with blankets and sheets and a pillow.

G slipped in and out of consciousness. In one of his more awake states, he noticed cool air surrounding his body before sliding back into a semi-conscious state. In another clearheaded moment, he realized the reason for the cool air. _Damn it, I'm naked._ He shivered and tugged at the blankets on the bed, trying to cover his naked, prone body. He shuddered hard, grasping the blankets again and yanking on them without success. Soft, strong hands caressed and stroked and prodded every inch of his nude body. G moaned and writhed and panted from the different sensations flooding him. His mind settled on one problem. "Freezing." He shivered hard.

"I'll take care of that in a minute."

He raised and turned his head to scan the room. Nothing looked familiar. The voice was familiar. G remembered back to the baby fresh scent. He moaned and grasped the blankets again. This time, he shuddered as ripples of nausea coupled with sharp tinges of pain washed over him. "Sam."

"Yeah." He stepped into G's view for a few moments carrying a red, fishing tackle box in his left hand and laying it on the opposite side of the bed.

"Where…" It took too much strength to talk. G laid his head on the pillow.

"My house," he said. "Be right back."

In the distance, G recognized water pouring into a vessel. At least he hoped it was not a deluge of rain inside Sam's house. He raised his head again and groaned when it pounded. After lying flat again, he sighed and waited for his partner's return.

"Okay, it's ready." Sam lifted G into his arms and brought him into his spacious, black and white tiled bathroom off the master bedroom. He positioned his partner in an oversized soaking tub.

When the warm water hit the abrasions and wounds on his body, G recoiled into himself. "What the hell are you doing to me?" That single string of words wiped out any gain of strength from his rest on the bed. G collapsed against the tub's side and panted.

"I'll warn you now, this is gonna hurt like hell." Sam poured an astringent into the warm water near his partner's back.

G's eyes flew open. He shot forward trying to escape the new substance's agony. "Crap!"

"I think that brought you to a fully alert state." Sam eased his partner back against the tub's side. "Let the stuff work, man, it will aid in healing." He poured another capful into the water.

He shot forward again. "What the hell are you trying to do to me, man?"

"Help you after you did something really stupid."

_Here it comes. I know I deserve this after chasing a suspect on my own. _

"It's witch hazel."

"I hate that stuff."

"Whatever, man." Sam poured a third capful into the water.

"Crap!" G jerked away from the solution as it came in contact with his injured and lacerated body. "You do that again—"

"And you'll chase me down and lose control of your vehicle?"

"Just stop," he said, breathless from the stinging pain.

"Slide down in the water and float on your back."

G shot him a look. "I'm not crazy."

"Want me to make you do it?"

"You wouldn't."

"Wait and find out." Sam removed his long sleeve, chocolate brown t-shirt and started to unbuckle the belt on his jeans.

"Okay, you made your point." He slid into the water and stifled a scream, sucking on his lower lip. "How long?"

"Until I say." He smirked watching his partner hold back a scream. "Why don't you let it go, man, no one here but us big boys?" G gritted his teeth and stared at the black tiled ceiling above his head. "Don't want to give me the satisfaction?" Sam opened the bottle of witch hazel and filled another capful emptying it into the tub.

G sucked on his lower lip. "How much more of this torture?"

"At least three more minutes and then starts round two."

"What?" G sat up. "I'm not subjecting myself to one more—"

"You will if you don't want to see the inside of a hospital and hear Hetty's wrath about the Mercedes." G laid back in the water. "Surprisingly, the Mercedes isn't a total loss. It needs new windows all around. Were you wearing your seatbelt?" G shot him a look. "Didn't think so, man. I found you sprawled out on the hood face down. No doubt traffic cams captured the entire sequence of events as your vehicle lost control on the flooded and oily asphalt."

"Great, just wonderful and Hetty?"

"Oh yeah, she called here while you laid on the bed stark ass naked," Sam said. "I deflected her questions telling her I had no idea where you were."

"Thanks, Sam."

"Thanks? Is that all you have to say?"

"Okay, just berate me already."

"Wait for it and I'll give it to you sooner or later."

"What?"

Sam poured two more capfuls of witch hazel into the water.

G winced and pulled away from the wicked, stinging liquid. "Damn it, that hurts!"

"What was it this time, G, couldn't wait until I got there?" Sam asked, grabbing several beach towels and one bath towel from the linen closet in the bathroom. "Afraid the suspect would get away? When you called me I was less than three minutes away from your stakeout."

"I thought he was moving."

"Moving to the moon where our tracking devices won't work?"

"Very funny."

"Not funny." He sighed. "You're catapulted through the windshield as if shot out of a gigantic slingshot and sprawled out on the hood of your Mercedes. You needed to follow a suspect which we have tracked in every possible way? What the hell is wrong with this picture?"

"Sorry."

"Sorry? Damn it, G, Hetty's gonna rip you a new one for sure on this ops," Sam said. "You think she'll take 'sorry' for an answer? No, she'll demand a detailed explanation for your stupidity."

"Would you stop, for once, would you stop?"

"Why?"

"I've got a pounding headache."

"Concussion."

"Great."

"Okay, Mr. Sprawled Out on the Hood, time for round two—debridement." Sam helped G out of the tub and toweled him off. At the same time, they turned their heads and stared into the bright red, tinged water in the white, porcelain bathtub. Sam wrapped an arm around G's shoulders and guided him into the bedroom. He placed one wine toned, beach towel on the bed. "On the bed face down on the towel."

"Why?"

"Don't fight it, G, do as I say." Sam helped him onto the king-sized bed. G sucked on his lower lip, close to biting it. "Let it go, man, no one else is here." He covered his partner's buttocks with a bath towel. Sam tucked another towel under G's legs. "Time for round two."

"What now?"

"Drink the liquid in the glass on the nightstand."

"What is it?" He asked.

"I'm not gonna tell you until it's all gone." Sam watched his partner swallow the last drop.

"Tasted like rum and coke."

"It was."

"I thought you weren't supposed to give alcohol to someone with a concussion."

"You're not, but I needed to give you a painkiller and something to relax you," he said. "That was before I knew you had a concussion." Sam settled on the opposite side of the bed and opened the king-sized, red, fishing tackle box that was about the size of a small ice chest.

G raised his head and watched his partner remove a shallow stainless steel pan, tweezers, alcohol pads, betadine solution, packaged syringes with separate needles, gloves, and a huge pile of sterile 4 X 4 pads from the fishing tackle box and lay them on a clear, plastic sheet. "What are you gonna do with that stuff?"

"Remove the glass embedded in your back and legs."

"No way in hell!"

"Then I'll take you to the hospital."

"No way in hell!"

"You can't have it both ways, man, one or the other."

"Is it gonna hurt?"

"Yeah, that's why I gave you the rum and coke."

"How much rum was in that drink?" G asked. "My head is swimming." He found it difficult to string his words together.

"Three shots."

His eyes widened. "Three!"

"Yeah, and I can tell it's starting to work because you're slurring your speech," Sam said. "If you want I can give you a painkiller."

"What kind of painkiller?"

"Don't get all techno on me."

"You know I hate needles," G said.

"What do you think this is a hospital where they give you injections?"

"Okay, that was stupid of me, of course you wouldn't have a shot." He laid his head back down on the pillow.

"As a matter of fact, I do have a shot." Sam smirked.

G raised his head. "What?" His jaw dropped. "You just said—"

"I never said I didn't have a shot."

"Damn it."

Sam removed a vial from the fishing tackle box laying them on the plastic sheet. "If you want a strong painkiller this is it."

"No thanks."

"Okay, time to get that glass out of your back." Sam moved closer to G's side, donned a pair of gloves, grabbed the tweezers, and the betadine solution. "Ready?"

"On three?"

"What part of the sequence?"

"What?" G asked.

"On one or two or three?"

"Just like on an ops, on three."

"Okay, one, two—" He grabbed a sliver of glass with his tweezers and pulled it out, tossing it into the pan.

G flinched and pulled away from Sam. "Crap! Damn you, you said on three."

"I lied." Sam snickered.

"You may think this is funny—"

"It's the only way to get all this glass out of you," he said. "I don't think it's funny." He ripped open a sterile pad, poured the betadine solution on it, and swabbed the wound.

G winced. "Crap!" And he thought the witch hazel solution stung bad.

"Sorry, man, I need to clean the wound afterward," Sam said. "You don't want an infection."

"You touch me again with that crap and I'll—" A needle pierced one of his right butt cheek. G shrieked and shuddered. "What the hell was that for? You know I hate needles!"

"I injected the painkiller into your smart-ass."

"Bastard!"

"That I am," Sam chuckled. "Maybe the painkiller will help the procedure go faster."

"What the hell was that stuff?"

"Dilaudid."

"What if I'm sensitive to it?" G asked. "And you gave me alcohol? Alcohol and drugs don't mix well—"

"Quit your belly aching and be thankful," Sam said.

"Is this punishment for acting on my own?"

"Nope." He grabbed the tweezers again. "Ready?"

"Hell no!"

"On three."

"Wait, what part of three?"

"I'm not telling you because you'll tighten your body and I need it relaxed," Sam said. "One, two, three, four—"

G screamed and jerked away from Sam. "Damn you, that's wasn't anywhere near three!"

"Yep." Sam sniggered.

"You're evil."

"No, trying to make this easier on you." He tossed the glass shard into the pan. "Part two." He prepared another sterile pad and swiped it across the wound.

G yelled and writhed. "You gave me no warning."

"Yep, best way," Sam said. "That painkiller ought to be working soon. Afterward, I can finish off this without you screaming and writhing all over the bed. Although, the deep breathing caused by the screams is probably good for you."

"I'll kill you, man." He stumbled over his words.

"Fat chance, G, your speech is sounding as if you are drunk and drugged." With the tweezers, he pulled several more shards of glass out of his partner's back, tossed them in the pan, and cleansed the wounds. "Yeah, now I can get more work done and faster."

"Wake me up when my head stops spinning." G closed his eyes.

"That's it, Mr. Sprawled Out on the Hood, stop resisting the painkiller and go to sleep." Sam snickered.

"Now, I'm Mr. Sprawled Out on the Bed Feeling Drunk and Drugged." He cracked a wry smile. The painkiller and alcohol relaxed G's exhausted and injured body.

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><p><strong># # #<strong>

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><p>Sam allowed G to sleep until he awakened on his own. During that time, he contacted Kensi and Deeks filling them in on the case. Of course, Hetty required an update on G's whereabouts. As much as he wanted to hide his partner's location, Sam could no longer do that. His partner's moans and groans alerted him that he had awakened and was probably in excruciating pain.<p>

"Sam!"

"Coming, man, give me a minute." He strode into the master bedroom and up to the bedside. "What's up?"

"Was that supposed to be funny?"

"Come on, G, what do you need?"

"More rum."

"No more rum, it's Dilaudid or nothing." Sam sat on the opposite side of the bed and drew up a dose of the painkiller. "This time I'll give you a full dose."

"How long did I sleep?"

"At least six hours." He set the syringe aside. "Time for part three."

"Part three?"

Sam grabbed a mirror and held it at an angle. "Take a look at your thighs."

G gasped. "What the?" His jaw dropped. "Wasn't the windshield laminated glass?" Large particles of glass were embedded in his thighs.

"Supposed to be, but laminated glass wouldn't fracture into sharp shards." Sam sighed. "I wondered the same thing. Got Kensi and Deeks looking into it."

"What did they find?"

"They haven't checked back in with me," he said. "They won't until they have all the information about the windshield and the rear window."

"Okay, what aren't you telling me?"

"All the windows in your car were shattered." Sam placed the mirror on the plastic sheet. "This was unusual for laminated glass. Ready for the shot?"

"Hell no!" G started to turn over onto his back.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

He continued to roll over and stopped short. G shrieked, pain searing through his back and legs. "Damn it!"

"I told you not to move." Sam grabbed his partner's ankles and held them together with one hand while lifting off the blankets and injecting G's left butt cheek with the medication filled syringe.

"Bastard! I'll kill you, man!" He yelled and pounded the pillow with his clenched fists. "You know I hate needles."

"Yeah, and there's no other way to do this." He prepared another syringe with a long, thin needle and laid it on the plastic sheet.

G's eyes widened. "You're not gonna stick that into me too."

"Unless you want to feel the world's worst pain, yes."

"Where?"

"Into the skin around the biggest shard of glass, which is embedded sideways under your skin."

"You can't be serious."

"Yep, first I'll let the painkiller dope you up some more before I begin your torture."

He glanced over his shoulder. "Torture?"

"I'm not gonna lie to you, G, you'll feel me remove this shard no matter how much you're doped up." G watched Sam pick up the syringe. "Ready?"

"Wait, no counting?"

"With as many stabs as I'm gonna give you, counting would be ludicrous."

"Come on man, humor me."

"One—" He jabbed the needle into his partner's skin injecting a small amount of lidocaine.

He flinched. "Damn it, you didn't even get to two!"

"Two—" He jabbed it again just under the skin.

G grabbed the blankets in his clenched fists. "How many—"

"Three—" After four more jabs into the skin surrounding the sizable glass shard, he capped the needle and set the syringe on the plastic sheet. "All finished."

"Better be because one more time and I would've kicked you." He relaxed his fists as the Dilaudid took the edge off the pain.

"Now comes the fun."

"You said torture, man, not fun." He watched Sam pick up another syringe. "What the hell are you doing with that?"

"Testing your skin for numbness." He stabbed the first area he had injected with the lidocaine. "Feel that?"

"No." G raised his head and glanced over his shoulder. "You're sticking that needle into my skin?"

"Yeah, the lidocaine has worked."

"Okay, the truth Sam, where did you rip off this stuff?"

"I had an injury and I know how to inject myself."

"Must've been a serious injury." G laid his head down on the pillow.

"It was." Sam tested the area he last injected. G didn't even flinch. "Ready for part three?"

"Wait, what is this gonna feel like?"

"A lot of pressure," he said. "As if I'm ripping the muscles out of your thigh."

G's eyes widened. "What?" He glanced over his shoulder again.

"What can I say, it won't be pleasant." Sam picked up a pair of pliers.

"Pliers?" His jaw dropped.

"The only tool which can grip that glass shard and prevent it from shattering in your leg."

"Is it sterile?"

"Yeah, what do you think I'm trying to do to you?" He smirked. Sam applied the pliers's teeth to the sharp, glass shard and yanked it sideways. G clenched the blankets in his fists and gritted his teeth. "Okay, man?" G shook his head. "I'll ease off for a few seconds and give you a breather." He waited a few moments and then applied pressure to the keen shard again and yanked it.

"You gotta stop, man, I can't…" G said breathless. "I'm close to passing out."

"Then pass out, man, don't worry about it."

"You're saying I'm a wuss?"

"Come on, G, I'm ripping a huge glass shard out of your thigh," he said. "You're not a wuss." He wrenched on the glass shard again.

"Crap!"

"That's it, yell all you want." Sam yanked on it again. "A couple of more inches."

His jaw dropped again. "Inches?"

"Yeah, about two inches." He tugged on it and it came more than halfway out. "Almost out, man, hold on." Sam pulled one more time and the shard was free. He tossed it in the metal pan.

G turned his head and glanced into the pan. His eyes widened. "That's almost the size of your fist!"

"You did good, man, only two more."

"What? No way you're injecting that crap into my leg again—"

"Cold turkey it is." Sam rubbed the pliers with a betadine solution soaked sterile pad.

"Will it hurt?"

"You're damned right." He applied the pliers to the glass shard. "Ready?"

"Wait. No," he said. "Numb it."

"You sure?"

"Don't make me ask again, Sam, do it already."

He grabbed the syringe off the plastic sheet, removed the cap to expose the needle, and proceeded to inject the area surrounding the two remaining smaller shards of glass. After waiting two minutes, he tested the areas as before making sure they were numb. He pulled out the two glass shards in about half the time as the first huge one. "Finished with your thighs." He soaked down several sterile pads and swiped them over the wounds. "A lot of blood."

"I'll go to the hospital if that's what you want," G said.

"Now you're offering to go?"

"I feel like crap."

"Put your head down and let me take care of this, man." After swabbing down his partner's thighs with the betadine solution, Sam removed a suture kit and another syringe from the fishing tackle box. "I need you to lie as still as possible. I'm setting up a sterile field."

"Wait, you said you were finished." He stared at the new syringe.

"True and there's an issue with your left thigh."

"Issue?" G asked. "Is that your subtle hint you're about to do something even more painful to my thigh?"

"The not so subtle hint, man." After he filled the first syringe with lidocaine, he took another syringe, removed the needle, plunged the syringe into the betadine solution and drew up enough to fill it. "If you thought this stuff hurt before—"

"Damn it, what are you gonna do with that?"

He didn't stop to answer his partner. Instead, he injected the betadine solution into the cavity left by the fist-sized glass shard, flushing out any debris left behind.

G writhed and clenched the blanket, his lower lip and chin trembling. "Bastard!"

"That's only your opinion so I'll allow it."

"My opinion?" He panted. "That hurts like hell." He turned his head sideways trying to watch what his partner was doing to his leg. "What are you gonna do next?"

"Sew you up."

G's jaw slacked open. "What the hell? Do you even know what you're doing?"

"Yep." Sam blotted the wound with several sterile pads to wipe away the excess betadine solution. "Here goes the—"

"The what? What the hell are you gonna do to me?"

"I told you, sew you up." He injected his partner's thigh with the lidocaine. When the needle pierced his skin, G yelped and flinched. "Take it easy, man, almost finished."

"Yeah, finished with torturing me."

"For the record, I told you this would be torture." He capped the needle and tossed the syringe on the plastic sheet.

"Yeah, but—" G shrieked. "What the hell—stop, man, stop doing that…"

"Testing for numbness on your thigh," Sam said. "Not quite numb, but it will be soon." He removed his gloves and put on a new pair. Afterward he threaded a needle with suture.

"You're seriously doing this?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"Yep, it's either this or you enter the hospital or a 24 hour clinic," he said. "The clinic will probably admit you to a hospital."

"Damn it, Sam, this isn't first hand knowledge for most people."

"Yep, I sewed up one of my teammate's arms in the field."

"As a Navy SEAL?"

"Yep."

When the suture needle pierced his thigh, he gasped and flinched. "With what?"

"Plant material."

"Plant?" G asked, breathless from the pressure the suture needle created when it pierced through his skin twice.

"Hemp or something similar." Sam stitched G's left thigh. "Whatever I could get my hands on where we were in the jungle."

"Is that going to leave an ugly scar?"

"You want it to, man?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means if you keep doubting my ability to stitch up your thigh, I'll accidentally on purpose skip a couple of stitches and—"

"Okay, don't murder my thigh," G said.

"Don't need to, man, you beat me to it." Sam chuckled and stitched G's thigh. "That's looking nice and smooth with small stitches."

"You mean torturous, small stitches."

"If you're feeling pain let me know."

G gritted his teeth. "Yeah, stop suturing now," he said, panting. "Damn it."

Sam grabbed the lidocaine filled syringe and injected more numbing solution into his partner's thigh.

"I don't know what hurts more the syringe or the suture needle," G said, wincing. "I hate needles!"

"Yeah, I get it, you hate anything which aids in healing your body." He grabbed the suture needle again and stitched his partner's thigh. "Feeling that?"

"Pressure only."

"Good, that's to be expected." Sam finished the last couple of stitches and tied off the last suture. Afterward he pulled a plastic sheet and towel out from under G's thighs. He replaced them with a new plastic sheet and towel. Next, he bandaged his partner's left thigh where the huge glass shard had been embedded in his leg, wrapping a stretchy gauze around the whole thigh. Last, he bandaged the right thigh covering both wounds at once. "You shouldn't need the hospital if you don't want to go there. I'll still need to work on your calves."

"Glass in there too?"

"Nope, abrasions, your back and thighs received the brunt of the injuries." Sam opened more sterile pads and soaked them down with the solution. Afterward he rubbed the pads into his partner's calves. "Now you look as if you've tanned yourself for days."

"In orange, Sam?" He asked, grimacing as the betadine solution seeped into the deeper cuts on his calves.

"Gives you a nice warm glow." The corners of his mouth turned upward. "And it will most likely be the most sun you'll see for the better side of seven days."

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading my story.<strong>


	3. Ogled, Touched, and Burned, Ch 2

**Title: Rogue Agents**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

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><p><strong>Ogled, Touched, and Burned<strong>

**Chapter 2**

G turned his head in Sam's direction and watched his partner sleep on the king-sized bed next to him. He sighed. _Damn it, why can't I just say it._ G sighed again.

"Awake?" Sam opened his eyes and rolled over onto his left side facing his partner. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, I… damn… can you… screw this." G turned his head back in the other direction.

"What do you need, man?"

He faced and glanced at his partner for a minute and then looked away again. "Hold me," he said. Tears threatened to form in the corners of his blue eyes.

Sam edged closer to G and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. "Good?"

"Got one question."

"Yeah."

"Why didn't my upper back and arms get glass imbedded in them?"

"Your leather jacket protected them and your face and head."

"Apparently, jeans alone don't protect your body from sharp shards of glass."

"Nope."

G sighed. "What about my, you know?"

"Your buttocks?" Sam asked, watching his partner blush almost bright red.

"Yeah."

"I guess boxers and jeans make a good protective covering from glass," he said. "Could also be the angle at which your body flew through the windshield."

G sighed again.

"You're doing a lot of sighing, in pain?"

"Nope." He wished this would be easier to say what was on his mind.

"Then what?"

"Thanks for tending to my wounds."

"And?"

"Damn it, you're making this hard." He sighed again.

"Got something to say, tell me."

He blurted out. "You perving on me?"

"Depends on how you define perving," Sam said. "More like you've perved on me and have been for the better side of a year."

"Who brought me home to their house?" He asked.

"Ah, I see where this is going." He drew G into his chest. "You think I'm perving on you? How I see it? You've perved on me and now, I finally called your bluff."

"See, I knew you were taking advantage of—"

Sam kissed G hard on the lips claiming his mouth. "Shut up and enjoy it, man, I know you want it and don't say you don't want it." G returned the bruising kiss forcing his tongue into his partner's mouth. Sam pulled away breathless from G's passionate kiss. "See, I knew it, perve." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

"Damn you."

Sam slid his hand down G's chest and ran his fingers through the blond hairs eliciting a long gasp from his partner. "Yeah, you want this and me. Tell me."

"Yes, okay, I do and I perved on you, okay." He sighed.

"Thought so," he said, "what interested you the most?" G's jaw dropped. "My sexy and developed abs?"

"Your firm ass." And he imagined how it looked when Sam was naked. Now he knew.

Sam licked on the side of G's neck closest to his ear lobe. "My firm ass, and you'd like to get into it?"

"No, I enjoyed ogling you."

"An ogler, I see." He licked and sucked on G's neck. "I'm a tease and it worked. Somedays I wore my tightest jeans to tease you and get you to ogle me. Other days I wore a tight, long sleeve t-shirt in your favorite color, ocean blue, to entice you."

G thought that is what his partner had been doing. Now he had the proof. "Damn it."

"Yep, caught in my surveillance eyes, and my well-planned undercover ops, and played you like the fool you are."

"I ought to slug you." What he really wanted to do was snuggle closer and wrap his body around Sam's. Yet he held back not wanting to appear needy.

"Yep, ought to, but I'm tantalizing your insatiable, sexy body right now and that's what you want." G sighed and relaxed in Sam's arms. "Yeah, there's my answer." Sam stroked G's chest and stomach and stroked back up to his neck. "You're one hot catch, and I've wanted this for as long as you have." He kissed down his partner's neck to his chest, swirling his tongue around the shorter man's nipples. G shuddered. "Responsive body too."

"You should watch what you're doing."

"Why?"

"We're just getting to know each other."

Sam drew G back against his body and whispered in his right ear. "Is that so sexy?" He chuckled. "I know a lot more about you than you believe I do."

"Sexy?" He sighed. "What do you know?"

"Where your spot is?"

G pulled away and glanced over his shoulder. "My what?"

"Your spot."

"What is it and how did you find it?"

"While you slept I tried some maneuvers on you."

"And while I was drugged?"

"Of course and you were just as responsive as without the drugs."

"Wait a minute!" He pulled away further and tried to roll over to face Sam. G could not maneuver his beat up body into that position. "When did you touch me without the drugs?"

Sam helped G to turn over and face him. "When I first brought you home and stripped you naked."

"You molested my body while I was semi-conscious?"

"I caressed, stroked, and prodded every inch of your sexy body, and you loved every damned minute of it," he said. "I had an excuse for touching your defenseless body. I needed to determine the extent of your injuries."

"Damn it, this isn't fair," he said. "I wanted to be the first one to touch you."

"Poor G molested by his partner while lying helpless and naked and semi-conscious and moaning on the bed." Sam joshed his partner and chuckled.

G reached out to punch his partner in the chest. Sam grabbed both of G's arms and rolled onto his back bringing G with him. "Crap!"

"Poor G angry with his partner for taking advantage of him." Sam chuckled. "You want to know where your spot is? By the look on your face, I know no one has ever discovered your spot before this time. Am I correct?" G nodded. "Not willing to give me the verbal satisfaction? Well, that's okay, I found it and I intend to exploit it in the near future." Sam continued to hold his partner's arms while gazing into his intense blue eyes.

"Tell me already, stop playing games with me."

"Nope, I'd rather demonstrate it later through enticing your sexy body."

"That's cruel and unusual punishment."

"Cruel to withhold intel from your sex deprived body and mind?"

"I don't have a sex deprived body and mind."

"When's the last time you got laid?" G closed his eyes. "Ah, can't even recall the last time. There's proof, you have a sex deprived body and mind. Okay, I'll show you once."

"And if I like it?"

"More later."

"Damn it." He sighed.

"Proof again of your sex deprived body and mind." Sam released G's forearms and trailed his sinewy, soft hands down his partner's sides until they reached G's buttocks. He crossed over the top of his partner's butt cheeks and gently stroked the area above them.

G gasped. "Please… damn it."

"Yep, nice, responsive body, the same as when I enticed you the first time." G grasped Sam's face with both hands and kissed him hard forcing his tongue deep into his partner's mouth. Sam returned the kiss wrapping his free arm around the back of G's neck and pulling him closer. "Now you know where your spot is."

"And where's yours?"

"That's for you to discover and enjoy."

"This confirms you have one."

"I'm not denying it," Sam said. "But I do have one question for you. Why did you need to be held earlier this morning?" G averted his eyes. "No, man, talk to me."

"Can't."

"Now you're clamming up on me?"

"I think, damn it, I think I'm burned."

Sam's jaw dropped. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know if, oh crap, I thought this would be easier to talk about with you, but, damn, it isn't." G sighed and laid his face on Sam's chest. "I did something ultra stupid."

"You mean like getting behind the wheel and pursuing a suspect who's tracked better than any suspect we've ever tracked?"

"Worse," G said. "I answered an unsolicited text message on my cell phone to have my windshield replaced."

"What the hell?" Sam's jaw dropped a second time. "Whatever were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking, damn it, I needed the new windshield, and it slipped my mind about the place Hetty said to use."

"When does anything ever slip your mind?" Sam asked. "I need to know all the intel about this place. I hope you didn't erase the message."

"I never erase text messages from my cell phone," he said, "I download them all onto my computer."

"And you call me paranoid." Sam chuckled. "Every text message you've ever received?"

"Yeah, and sent."

"Damn, talk about an undercover ops agent, and what else don't I know about you?"

"I guess you'll discover that when you've got me naked and ready and willing on your bed."

Sam cupped G's face with two hands and kissed him hard. "I like that scenario," he said. "So does that mean you're easy with me in bed?"

"Define easy."

"Moldable and malleable."

"Maybe, but more so if you tease my spot." The left corner of G's mouth turned upward.

"I like where this is going." Sam kissed G softer and more tender this time. He grabbed his cell phone off the nightstand and autodialed Kensi's number.

"Isn't it too early in the morning to call someone?"

"I'm leaving a voice mail message," he said. "Got a password she needs to know about?"

"You think I'm that secretive?"

"I don't think, I know you are." He wrapped his free arm around G's neck and drew him down for another kiss. "No one else on our team dumps their cache and browsing history on their computer after each internet session. And I love that about you, mysterious and secretive."

"Semi-Conscious with two caps and hyphenated."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Odd password and I'll bet there's a story behind it."

"You asked."

"And?"

"I think I was semi-conscious for answering that text message on my cell phone." He sighed. It was the most dangerous thing he'd done in the last year. Well, except get into the Mercedes and fail to wear his seatbelt.

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><p># # #<p>

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><p>Sam caressed G's shoulders while kissing an extra sensitive area he discovered on his partner's neck below his left ear. "Like that?" All he heard was a moan which was followed by a gasp and a sigh. "Relaxed?" G nodded. "I do have one question."<p>

"I might have an answer."

"Might?" Sam asked. "What happened at the auto glass shop?"

G jerked away from Sam. "Damn it, you spoiled my time with you."

"I'm not finished with our lovemaking."

"Lovemaking?"

"Yeah," Sam said, lowering his voice. "I want to lower myself into the depths of you."

"Never thought of doing something like that and I'm not sure if I want to either."

"I'll go slow, don't worry."

"I'm not worried, I'm freaked out about it."

"I promise you'll love it once you get used to it."

"It's not that." G sighed. "Everything we've done so far is, well, inconsequential."

"Inconsequential?"

"Mild."

"Insignificant."

G sighed. "Okay, I get your point, but this would be—"

"Earth-shattering."

"Yeah, and it would change the dynamics of our partnership."

"Nope, it would only change our relationship, our partnership dynamics remain the same."

"How do you figure that?" He asked.

Sam answered G with a light peck on the lips. "We don't have sex on the job." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

"Damn, you've got me there." He drew Sam's head toward his and gave him a claiming kiss. He wanted to avoid talking about this as long as possible. Sam was a great distraction for him.

"Again, what happened at the auto glass shop?"

"Won't let this slide will you?"

"Do I ever?"

"Nope." G remembered back a year ago when he first entered the auto glass shop. "I thought I recognized the owner."

"Thought?"

"It was a split second of a brain burp."

"Brain burp?" Sam chuckled. "More like a hiccup."

"Yeah, and then the memory was gone."

"How long ago was that?"

"Damn, you would have to ask me."

"And you thought I wouldn't?"

"I hoped you'd let it go."

"Tell me."

"Just over a year ago."

Sam's jaw slacked open. "A year ago?" He asked. "About the same time you requested we place this unsub under heavy surveillance?" G pulled away and Sam drew him back into his chest. "Is this man the same one we have under surveillance?" G swiped his lower lip with his tongue. "I know that gesture. Want to share?"

"Not especially."

"Want me to finish our lovemaking session?"

"Damn it, is this a bribe?"

"Yep."

G had tracked the man at the shop, who he first recognized and then quickly forgot the man's identity, on his own for about a week. After getting no where with his surveillance, he passed the intel onto Hetty. He failed to inform her of the complete details of the case. G feared Hetty would've treated it as she did the intel he'd given her from Arkady several years ago. With this case, he sensed less would be more, but now she'd know what he had done. "I had to do it my way," he said. "I knew something was wrong."

"You got burned and you failed to inform Hetty?"

"Yeah, damn it, now she'll ream me a new one instead rip me a new one."

"She'll need to stand in line, because I'm using your ass tonight." Sam chuckled.

"That's not funny, this is not funny," G said. "What happened at that auto glass shop shook me to the core."

"You mean going there?"

"The whole thing, going there, seeing that guy, knowing him from somewhere, and in the next minute forgetting who he was." The worst was forgetting what occurred there. No memory.

"I got a hunch, grab your cell phone out of the nightstand drawer," Sam said. "Do you still have the original text message on your phone?"

"This one, yeah, but the rest are on the computer with a copy of this one." This text message disturbed him. G kept glancing at it, though not reading it, trying to figure out why he would respond to an anonymous text message. Over the last year, he used the text message to berate himself again and again.

G pulled the drawer open and eyed all of his belongings lined up across the front in a neat, orderly row. Tears welled up in his sapphire blue eyes. He reached for his cell phone and handed it to Sam. After closing the drawer, he started to bury his face in the pillow.

Sam set the phone aside and cupped G's face in his hands. "What are these about?"

"Nothing, man."

"Nothing?" he asked. "Since when do you tear up over nothing?"

He swallowed hard and glanced away for a moment before bringing his eyes back to focus on Sam's cocoa-colored orbs. "No one ever allowed me to settle into their home."

"Therefore, the relationship was never memorable."

"Yeah, I never stayed long enough in their life to make a difference, and they never wanted me to stay long enough to make a difference."

Sam brushed the tears away from the outside corners of G's eyes.

"I needed to belong and they didn't want me to belong," he said, more tears welling up in his eyes. "That's when I gave up on relationships altogether. I believed I would never belong to anyone but myself."

"And now?"

"My gear in your nightstand—" Tears freely flowed down his cheeks. He buried his face in Sam's chest.

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><p># # #<p>

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><p>While holding him in his arms, Sam caressed G's chest. "We'll work on getting you ready more before trying it again."<p>

"It was a disappointment to you?" He asked.

"No, I enjoyed our time together." Sam sighed. "I don't want to hurt you and I want your first time to be pleasurable. You know we didn't finish talking about the text message on your cell phone."

"So soon, I was enjoying your touch."

"I can still caress your body while we talk."

"Good." G sighed, but that wouldn't make it easier to talk about what happened a year ago.

"My hunch is this, something in this message triggered you to go to that particular auto glass shop."

"Okay, what are we talking about here, mind control?"

"Yeah."

"I thought that crap went out with the Cold War."

"Yes, and no."

"Can you actually use mind control to make someone do something they don't want to do?"

"Yes, and no, it depends on how the programming was originally instituted, how long the programming lasted, and how often it was repeated."

"You believe in this crap?"

"It's not crap, G."

"Now, if that came out of my mouth, you'd be calling Nate, and asking him to see me right away." The left corner of his mouth turned upward. "You expect me to believe—"

"Close your eyes and tell me the first thing which comes to mind when I read the text message."

"If I do this, you'll drop this ridiculous quest to prove I was brainwashed?"

"Yep."

"You think I'm a Manchurian Candidate or a guy from who came home from Iraq or Afghanistan and is now a sleeper agent?"

"Nope, I think this might be something even more sinister."

"Come on, Sam, it's simply a text message."

"A text message which you, a highly trained, federal agent who works as an undercover agent, received and acted upon."

"Are you rubbing this in, because my wounds are starting to ache." He smirked.

Sam stroked his partner's nipples until they perked up. G moaned and wanted more of his partner's expert touch. "How's that for rubbing it in?"

"You got me." The left corner of G's mouth turned upward.

"Let's prove it, close your eyes."

G closed his eyes and waited.

"The first thing which comes to mind."

"Ready."

"The message says:_ Sale on windshield replacements. Please come by and ask for our replacement sale_."

G's eyes flew open and he sat upright almost knocking Sam in the face with his head. "I need to get my windshield replaced today." He started to stand.

Sam held him in a sitting position on the bed. "G?" He noticed his partner's eyes had a glazed over appearance. "Come on man, you okay?"

"Let me go." G struggled to stand.

He tightened his hold on G's waist. "Where?"

"I have 24 hours to comply."

"Comply with what?"

He jerked away from Sam, grabbed his partner's arms and attempted to pry them off his waist. "Damn it, you need to let me up!"

Sam laid down on his back, pulling G with him. "What you need is a hug session and that will settle you right down." G relaxed in his partner's arms. "That's it, let it go." His partner struggled again. "No, stay right here." Sam tightened his grip around G's waist with one arm. He autodialed Hetty's number. "I've got a serious problem with G."

Hetty yawned. "This better be important, Mr. Hanna."

"G has been programmed."

"Programmed?" She asked. "We're talking Cold War programming?"

"Yes, I think Manchurian Candidate programming."

"I won't ask how you discovered this," she said, "I'm getting dressed as we speak."

"And I won't even try to explain it." Sam disconnected.

G raised his head off Sam's chest."What happened?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yeah, the programming is real, man."

G tried to sit up. "No way!"

"You're not getting away from me, man, Hetty is twenty minutes out." Sam wrapped both arms around his partner's waist.

"You called her just now and told her what happened?"

"Yeah."

He sighed. "I need to get dressed."

"As long as you promise not to fight me or try to escape."

"Where would I go?" G asked.

"Never mind." He was shocked to see how fast the suggestion faded from his partner's mind. Sam rolled the man off of him and onto the side of the bed. After straddling his partner, he wrapped his arms around G's chest. "I wouldn't have believed it myself had I not seen and heard it with my own eyes and ears. Stand up and steady yourself with my shoulders." G stood and grabbed Sam's shoulders fast before he started to lose his balance. "You're definitely not 100 percent. Turn around and let me see your back side."

"You want to titillate my spot?"

"That and check out your wounds and see how they're healing." He trailed his fingers down G's back to his buttocks and down to his thighs. "Looks 100 percent better than yesterday."

"But you just said I'm not 100 percent."

"You're not 100 percent healed, man, you're far from it." Sam sighed and turned G to face him. "I've got some sweats which might fit you."

"Not the tops, man, I'm no he-man like you." He smirked.

"He-man?" He glared at him.

"Yeah, alpha male." G grinned wide.

"You trying to piss me off?"

"No, I was joking around, can't you take a joke, tough guy?"

Sam wrestled G onto the bed and straddled his waist. "Tough guy?" He got in his face.

"Yeah, it's a joke, damn it." He panted and trembled, half with anxiety and half with sexual excitement. "Bruiser."

"Now you're asking for it." He edged his face closer until they were inches apart.

"Macho man," G said, lowering his voice.

Sam wrapped a hand around the back of G's neck and drew his face closer to his. "Macho man, I like that, but I prefer something more enticing," he said in his most seductive and sexiest tone.

"Damn it." A shiver traveled down his spine. Sam's voice and his close proximity stirred something deep within him.

"For when I make love to you after our guest leaves." He planted soft, tender kisses on G's lips and trailed across his chin to his neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive spot he found earlier and suckling the skin in and out of his mouth. "Now you're marked and mine."

G gasped, his heart beat throbbing in his throat. "Heartthrob."

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><p># # #<p>

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><p>G's upper body swam in the midnight blue sweatshirt Sam had offered for him to wear. He kept lifting his shirt sleeve up to his face to take in the baby fresh scent of his partner. The matching sweats were loose too and Sam had taken the opportunity more than once to slip his hand down the back of his pants searching for and titillating his spot. He shuddered each time his partner lightly stroked across that spot. Right now, he attempted to focus on the conversation between Hetty and Sam who were seated across from him. It was too difficult to pay attention to their odd talk about a Manchurian Candidate. Sam was right, he was not 100 percent healed. Sleep sounded more inviting than listening to and understanding them. He dozed on the sofa, propping up an elbow on the armrest and resting his head on his upturned hand. G stifled several yawns and gave into the last huge, loud one, his arm sliding down and his head now resting on the armrest of the burgundy leather sofa.<p>

Sam noticed right away, excused himself, and drew a burgundy and teal, zigzag patterned, wool blend blanket over his partner's reclining form. Before he stepped away, G grasped his thigh and gazed up into Sam's face. "If you want I'll tuck you into bed."

"I'll wait."

"I know what you want, but I need to finish talking to Hetty."

"She knows about us?" G asked in a quiet voice.

"Yeah, of course, it's Hetty." He eyed his partner's grasp on his thigh.

"Damn." He quickly released his partner's thigh.

Sam patted G's shoulder and crossed back over to the matching leather couch. He sat down facing Hetty.

G hoped it wasn't true that he acted on programming to get the windshield replaced on his car. The more he thought about the possibilities, the more he knew it might be true. He thought back to that particular day when he traveled to the auto glass shop. It was odd; G could not remember how long he had been there. He sat upright and stared across the room at Hetty and Sam.

"What is it, G?" Sam noticed the dazed expression on his partner's face. He crossed the space between them and crouched down next to the sofa.

"Embarrassing."

"You're not making sense, man."

"I don't remember that day, how I got there, and how long I stayed there."

Sam straightened and faced Hetty. "Can Eric pull intel from a year ago?"

"Not a problem, Mr. Hanna." She pulled out her cell phone and autodialed Eric's number. "Bring up the traffic and video cams from a year ago at the auto glass shop in question. I need to know how long Mr. Callen stayed at the shop." She shut off her phone. "Any intel will be sent to both your laptop and cell phone ASAP."

G's lower lip and chin trembled. "I, damn it, something happened there and I don't remember what it was."

Sam faced his partner again and crouched down close to him. "Don't worry about this, man, we'll figure out what happened." G pulled his knees to his chest and curled onto his side. Sam drew the blanket around him once again. "I think I need to put you back to bed."

"After she leaves," he said, keeping his voice low.

"Okay."

Hetty stood and smoothed down her cream colored suit jacket and pants with both hands. "I'll let you get some rest, Mr. Callen."

"You gonna tell me about the Manchurian Candidate?" G asked, lifting his head off the sofa.

Hetty stopped halfway to the front door. "What would you like to know?" She asked.

"Is it possible something like that can happen?"

"It worked during the Cold War and methods are still used today."

"Now there's two against one," G said. "I'm not into that brainwashing, mind control, new-age-sounding mumbo-jumbo. That Manchurian Candidate crap went out with the Dark Ages."

"Mr. Callen, it's not mumbo-jumbo, it's real and possible in the right situation with a pliable mind."

He stared at her for a few minutes. "How would someone get a pliable mind?"

"Numerous ways including drugs and pre-suggestion and post-suggestion of orders while under those drugs," Hetty said. "I'll send that intel about mind control to your laptop, Mr. Hanna."

"And my cell phone?" G asked.

"I think you need to let Sam handle this ops, considering your condition, and the possibility of you being burned." She strolled toward the door. "Don't bother getting up, Mr. Hanna, I'll let myself out."

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>Several hours later, Sam looked up from the intel which had been sent to his laptop and his cell phone. G stood naked in the doorway of his home office. "What are you doing out of bed, babe?" He rubbed his eyes and put down the pen in his hand.<p>

"Babe?" G tilted his head.

"You need a pet name and it sounded good."

"How about something more endearing?"

"Such as?"

G half limped across the large office space and pointed to his partner's lap. "May I?" Sam nodded. He eased himself down, facing him, and winced. "Sweetheart."

"Heartthrob is a little over the top for me."

"Is it now?" He planted a soft kiss on Sam's mouth. "When I'm near you my heart throbs in my throat."

"I do that to you?"

"Yeah, and much more." G smirked.

"You should at least wear a bathrobe."

"No one else is gonna see my naked and beaten up body." He moved his butt around on his partner's lap.

"I think someone wants something," he said. "I meant you need a bathrobe to protect your back and thighs."

"From you?"

Sam shook his head. "A one track, sex starved body and mind."

"Yeah."

"How about we go back to bed for a little smooching?"

"And miss the intel on the desk behind me?"

"Ulterior motives, I should've known you were up to more than enticing my sexy body." Sam closed his laptop computer and shoved his cell phone in a drawer in his mahogany desk. "No."

"What?" G's jaw dropped. "Why? It's about me and I should know about—"

"Hetty said no for a reason."

"Screw this!" G started to rise off his partner's lap.

Sam wrapped his arms around his partner's waist and held him in place. "The reason you're in here is to entice me into giving you access to the files."

He sighed and lowered his head to stare at his partner's smooth, dark brown, bare chest peeking out between the collar of a white, polar fleece bathrobe. It was a sharp contrast to G's own chest with medium length, soft blondish hair which Sam loved to twist and twirl and stroke his hands through. "Yeah."

"Thank you for being honest with me, man." He gently lifted G's chin and planted a tender kiss on his mouth. "Hetty wants to protect you from most of the intel. I agree with her."

"Siding with her now?"

"On parts of it, yes, because of your mental state."

"Now, what about my mental state?"

"Damn it, man, you were just in a horrific accident, and now you're remembering things which occurred over a year ago." G lowered his chin again, resting it on his own chest. Sam placed a single finger under his partner's chin and pressed upward. Tears filled the man's intense blue eyes. "What are these about this time?"

"I need to know, it's my life, I don't need more secrets."

"Call Hetty and tell her why you want to know, and that you are unwilling to step back from this case."

His jaw slacked open. "I'm supposed to call her?"

"Yeah, I'm not gonna do it." He opened the desk drawer and handed his partner his cell phone.

G stared at the phone in his hands and Hetty's number on the autodial list.

"Afraid to voice your opinion?"

"Afraid of what she'll tell me," he said. "And what all this intel says about what happened to me."

"A dilemma."

G autodialed Hetty's number.

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><p>Thanks for reading and for the reviews.<p> 


	4. Quintessential Creep, Ch 3

Thank you everyone for the great reviews and reading my story.

**Title: Rogue Agents**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Quintessential Creep<strong>

**Chapter 3**

G turned over in bed to lie on his stomach, the wounds on his back and thighs rubbed on the sheets. He yelped and started to roll backward to where he had been lying on his back. After twisting and turning his body to disentangle himself from the blankets and sheets, he started to panic. "Stop, don't do it!" He yanked on the sheet becoming further entangled in it. G grabbed onto whatever was within in reach and pulled it off of his arms, panting and gasping for air as the blankets and sheets tightened their hold on his body. "Get off me, damn it!"

Sam kneeled on the bed next to G. "Easy, man, let me help you." He grasped the covers and started to pull them off of him.

He shrieked and jerked away. "No!"

"Open your eyes, it's Sam."

His eyes flew open. He stared into Sam's cocoa-toned ones.

"You good?"

"No"

"Was it a nightmare?" While lying down next to him, Sam stroked G's face. "Care to share?"

"Were you in bed with me?"

"Nope, I came running from my office when I heard you yelp."

"I yelped?"

"Yeah."

"Damn." He pressed his face into Sam's tender touch. "I was in this dark place and something was holding me down and I couldn't move and… crap… I think I was in that auto glass shop."

"Intel shows you arrived at the auto glass shop at 8 AM and left at 6 PM."

G's eyes widened. "That's ten hours of missing time, do you realize that, ten hours, and I'm an undercover ops agent, and I don't know what I did for those ten hours." He swiped his tongue across his lower lip._ It angers me that Hetty refused my request to be back on this case. Maybe it is for my own good if this nightmare is any proof. Not to mention ten hours of missing time._

"And you have no memory of what occurred while you were there." He shook his head. "Eric found a man leaving the shop a few minutes after you left. He's running facial recognition and performing a full-court press on his background."

"Right now?"

Sam's cell phone vibrated on the nightstand. "That's probably him." He answered the phone. "Eric what did you find for me. Send me a image. I'll call you back." He faced G. "I need you to look at this image and tell me if you recognize this man." Sam turned the cell phone toward his partner and waited. He knew by the mien on G's face that his partner was in trouble emotionally and mentally and the image only exacerbated the situation.

G grabbed the blanket and drew it up over his head. "Take it away, damn it, I don't want to see the damned guy, oh crap."

"The photo is gone." Sam grasped the blanket and pulled it down under G's chin. "Can you tell me who this man is?"

"I don't have a name, but he was in the shop when I arrived there."

"Did you speak with him?"

"Crap, you're asking me things I haven't a clue about, and I'm sorry, there just isn't anything to tell you, because I can't remember what I did for those damned ten hours." His words came out as if shot from an Uzi submachine gun, rapid-fire and pressurized.

"Easy, man, take it easy." He stroked G's face again attempting to calm him once more. "I need to speak with Eric again." He autodialed their tech operator. "Facial recognition, but no name." After a few minutes of listening to Eric speak he said good-bye and shut down his phone.

"What did he say?"

"He's still performing a background check on our unsub and will have answers soon."

"Damn it, you don't have to hide this from me."

"But I do, man, you're in no condition to handle this right now."

"Can't I be the judge of that?"

"Nope." Sam slid off the opposite side of the bed. "I have some work to finish in my office."

"That's how you end this damned conversation?"

"Yeah, for now, we'll discuss this later after I finish my research."

"Research?"

"Stop, man, you heard Hetty earlier," Sam said. "She said you need to allow me to handle this ops not you."

He sat straight up in bed and threw the covers off his body. "I know what you two are doing, and it's not gonna work."

"You've watched Conspiracy Theory too many times."

"What?" G glanced at his partner sideways.

Sam came over to the bedside and sat next to him. "I know you like the movie, and we're not conspiring against you."

"Oh, I thought, damn, I'm starting to get defensive about this," he said. "You know I don't believe in that stuff. I just like the movie."

"You like a love story where the guy never gets the girl?"

"Sam!"

"I know you're defensive about not remembering what happened at the auto glass shop."

"Yeah, and it makes me feel—crazy," he said. "I'm a federal agent who's job is to go undercover. Here I can't remember what happened for ten hours of my life."

"Hetty is right, you need to stay off this investigation," Sam said. "Especially, if you even suspect you were burned." Sam wrapped his left arm around his partner's waist.

G sighed, his shoulders rolling forward. "I should've never called her," he said, "Hetty's right."

"G, Hetty's always right."

"Damn it." He sighed. "I need to know about the accident. Why is she withholding intel about it? What about the windows's composition?"

"You sure you want to go there?"

He snuggled up to Sam's side, resting his head on his partner's chest. "Yeah, but I'm afraid."

"Hetty told me to give you as little intel as possible," he said. "She's concerned about your mental and emotional state."

"There you go again talking about my mental and emotional state." G sighed long and deep. "Tell me, man, I need to know."

"You can't leave my house until we find the unsub."

He raised his head and glanced at Sam sideways. "You lost the unsub?" he asked. "With all that tracking you bragged about and you can't find him?"

"He vanished."

"No such thing as vanished and you damn well know it!" G jerked away from Sam and pulled his knees up to his chest, crying out from pain shooting up the back of his thighs into his buttocks. He laid back and rolled onto his stomach, stifling a scream and clenching the pillow with his fists.

Sam reached out to touch his partner. "Let me see what you did."

G shoved his partner's hands away from his body. "Get your damned hands off me, asshole!"

"It's Sam, look at me, man, look at me," he said, lying down beside him.

G turned his head to face him. "Damn it, what just happened to me?"

"A burp, a hiccup."

"Again?" he asked. "This is getting creepy."

"What do you mean getting?"

"I know, I know."

Sam reached out again to touch his partner's body. "I'm checking out your legs, okay." G nodded. He stroked down each thigh and checked for any seepage of blood through the bandages on both thighs. "Looks good so far. I need to remove the left bandage."

"The worst one?"

"Yeah, sorry, man."

G braced himself for the worst-case scenario, the stitches needing to be removed and the thigh needing to be sutured again. He cringed at the thought of needles piercing his skin. With each unwrap of the gauze which held the bandages in place, he shivered and fought the urge to leap off the bed and hide in some dark corner in a closet. G grabbed the pillow with both fists and squeezed it until his knuckles turned white. His lower lip and chin quivered the closer Sam got to the stitches. "Is it okay, does it look okay?"

"Everything looks fine—pink healthy skin and a small amount of scabbing which is to be expected," Sam said. "I need to change the bandages anyhow." He pulled the 4 X 4 pads completely off the sutured wound and examined the area.

"And?" He asked, clenching his jaw.

"Are you in pain?" G averted his gaze from Sam's eyes. "When did this start? Let me get you some of that Dilaudid."

He turned back to face him. "I'm okay, man, let's skip it."

"Not from what I'm seeing." A sheen of sweat glistened on his partner's face. Sam opened the bedside drawer. He removed a syringe and the medicine vial. "You haven't asked for this at all. I believe you need it." He drew up the maximum dose, grabbed an alcohol swab, and rubbed an area on G's upper left buttock. "On three."

"The real three?"

"Or the fake three?"

"The undercover ops three," G said.

"One, two,—"

"Wait! On three or after it?"

"Just like an ops, man, one, two, three." He injected the medicine.

G sucked on his lower lip to prevent himself from screaming. He hated needles. Even Sam's expert technique had not changed his complete distaste for sharp objects penetrating his skin.

"All right, let me finish wrapping my present." Sam chuckled.

"I guess I'm the present." The corners of G's mouth turned upward.

He placed several sterile pads over the wound and wrapped the leg with gauze. "Next time tell me."

"No."

"I know you hate needles, but you're in pain and you need the painkiller."

"I may need it, but I don't want it."

"In that case, I'll institute my own techniques to determine your level of pain."

He sighed. "How long before this painkiller kicks in?"

"Changing the subject?" G faced the opposite wall. "That's not gonna work. Either tell me when you're in pain or I'll decide when to medicate you. The painkiller takes longer to work if you wait until the pain is the worst."

"What?" G faced Sam again.

"I'm surprised you didn't know that, man," Sam said. "I remember them telling you that in the hospital."

He thought back to the time when he got shot five times. Yeah, the nurses told him that. Still he resisted telling them when he was in pain. After he was fully conscious, he refused an infusion drip of the painkiller not wanting to be drugged out of his mind and needing to stay alert. When the pain reached a critical point, he was shaking and shivering hard with a cool sweat forming on his face and chest, G would give into the need for painkillers. The pain took twice as long to dissipate when he waited too long to take a painkiller. He wasn't always like that and had wondered where the fear of needles had originated.

"Lie back and get some rest," he said. "I promise to wake you when I come to bed."

"Can you hold me some more until the medicine works?"

He drew G back into his body. "And then you'll get some rest?"

He snuggled into his partner's warm body fighting the shivers from the pain. "Yeah, if you'll promise to make me into a s'more sandwich with your sexy body."

"A gooey s'more snack which is good enough to eat." Sam smacked his lips.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>Sam wrapped his arms around G's chest and nuzzled his face in the crook of G's neck savoring their post coital tryst. "You okay, man?"<p>

"That was… no words."

"Speechless, I'll need to remember that when I want to calm you down."

"I'm calm." G sighed and rolled to his side facing Sam, snuggling into his partner's chest. "And relaxed."

Sam tucked the covers around them both and drew G into him. "A few more minutes and I'll get us a couple of warm washcloths."

"I don't want you to move."

"You said that an hour ago."

"I know, but I need this right now and, crap, I'm, damn..." He shuddered for the second time in the last thirty minutes.

Sam pulled back and lifted G's chin. "You're what?" He gazed into his partner's moistened sapphire blue eyes.

"Flashbacks, I'm having flashbacks, damn it, hold me and don't ask me anything more right now, okay, just do it." _Why do I always freak out about this. Feels as if I'll come unglued if I don't figure out what happened to me in that auto glass shop._

Sam drew G closer into his body again and wrapped his arms around his waist. "When you are ready to talk about the flashbacks I'm here."

"Tell me why Hetty won't give me the intel about the accident."

"Are we on that again?"

"I'm persistent."

"Maybe too persistent for your own good," Sam said. "Okay, one more piece of intel, but don't blame me if it triggers off more nightmares."

"I'll take full responsibility—"

"Stuff it, man, with the full responsibility promises." He sighed. "If you're triggered all those promises go out the proverbial window. I end up dealing with the damages."

"True."

"All the windows in your car were replaced with regular glass." G's jaw slacked open. "This is attempted murder." He jerked away from Sam and turned over onto his left side. Sam rolled over and stroked his partner's shoulders and upper back. "I knew you couldn't handle this." He drew him back against his body. "Come on, man, talk to me."

"Hold me tight."

Sam pulled G tighter against him, surrounding his partner's chest with both arms. "Hetty's not angry with you about not wearing your seatbelt," he said. "If you had worn it, your carotid arteries would've been sliced clean through by flying shards of glass."

"I know, Sam, it all makes sense now, and it scares the crap out of me," he said. "The accident was no accident. Damn it. Now I wonder what happened at that auto glass shop. Who were those men?"

"When you're feeling up to it," Sam said. "Hetty wants you to give her a list of possible person's of interest who might want to kill you."

"How long a list does she want me to write?" He smirked.

"Come on, man, be realistic."

"Every person we ever arrested wants to kill us."

"True, but she would like a list of your personal favorites."

"Favorites?" he asked. "None are my favorites." The corners of his mouth curved upward.

"Smart-ass," Sam said.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

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><p>G found out the hard way that sitting in a regular chair without cushioning was nearly impossible. The act done once resulted in excruciating pain and one shot of Dilaudid to quell his screams. Instead, G and Sam laid on a faux polar bear fur rug before a crackling fire which Sam had built and lit in the black tiled fireplace. G worked on the list Hetty requested earlier.<p>

"How's the list coming?"

"It's not, man, I've got one name and that's all."

"Anybody I know?"

"Nope."

"Let me see it." Sam glanced over G's naked, prone body, wrapping his arms around his partner's shoulders. "Definitely not someone I'd place on the list. Who is he?"

"Demyan is the quintessential creep," he said. "He makes John Bordinay, the paranoid, extremist, nut job who stockpiled dragon missiles, look as if he were a first grader playing with a cap gun."

"No last name?"

"Never knew his last name."

"Where do you know him from?" G jerked away from his partner trying to unseat him from his upper back and shoulders. "I see I hit a sore spot. Tell me about this guy."

"No."

"That's succinct."

Sam drew G into him and flipped over on his back drawing his partner with him.

"Sam!"

"Yes?"

"What the hell was that for?"

"Teach you who's the boss." Sam chuckled. He nibbled on G's earlobe and wrapped his arms around his partner's waist. "I like your body close to mine."

"And that roasting fire."

"Feels good and you like it."

What felt good was Sam's heated body against his ravaged back and thighs. The warmth radiated into his wounds soothing them. He released a long sigh.

"See, you admitted it."

G relaxed into his partner's hot body, taking in a combination of his baby scent and his sweaty manly odor. "Make love to me."

"Can't get enough, man?"

"Your smell turns me on, okay, I know that's strange."

Sam released G and flipped him over to face him surrounding G's shoulders with both arms. "My body odor?" he asked. "You know they've done studies on relationships and there's a correlation between being attracted by someone's body odor and romantic attraction."

"Come on, Mr. Snake Oil Man, you've got to be joking."

"Mr. Snake Oil Man?" He chuckled. "It's a fact. When did you first notice this attraction to my body odor?"

"Now you're attempting to prove your point."

"Answer the question, sexy."

"Is that my new pet name?"

"Nope, babe's gonna do it for me."

"All right, one and a half years ago, and you're right."

"See."

G slid his body across and back and forth on his partner's chest and groin emphasizing his earlier request for Sam to make love to him, their sweat making it easy to glide their bodies over each other.

"You seriously want more?"

"Yeah."

"Let's take this into the bedroom."

"No, I want to sweat it out here in front of the fire."

"You're definitely a romantic man," Sam said, rolling G over on to his back onto the fur rug and closer to the fire. "We good?"

"Better than good."

"Afterward Hetty needs that name." He traced his partner's lips with a single finger. Sam leaned in for a gentle, tender kiss.

"Must we always mix business with pleasure?" The corners of his mouth turned upward. He wrapped his arms around his partner's neck and drew him down closer for a passionate kiss.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>Later in the afternoon, Sam entered the den carrying a medication filled syringe and an alcohol swab. His partner was lying prone and naked watching TV on a wine and black toned divan. G took one glance at the syringe, grabbed his white polar fleece bathrobe next to him, and covered his buttocks with it. "No, you don't, remember we have our schedule every four hours." Sam sat next to him and started to remove the bathrobe.<p>

G jerked away and tucked the bathrobe around him. "No!"

"Calm down, babe, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"Let's try this once more." Sam edged over to his partner's side and tugged on the bathrobe.

"Get your damned hands off me, asshole!" He backed away and scooted toward one end of the divan.

This time Sam studied his partner before moving closer to him again. "What's going on, man?"

"I'm not in pain, and I don't want that thing anywhere near my body."

"But something else is going on," he said. "I've noticed you withdrew from me after you told Hetty about Demyan."

"So."

"Okay, talk to me about this quintessential creep."

"There isn't much to say, because I don't remember what happened when I was with him."

"You're triggered?"

G scooted over to the far side of the divan and stood. "I'm going back to bed."

"You're avoiding me."

"Yeah, satisfied with my answer?"

Sam followed G into the bedroom. "I need to check your right thigh and this will give me the opportunity."

"I want to be alone."

"Not happening, man," Sam said. "Face down."

"Crap, and no painkiller."

"No problem." He sat onto the opposite side of the bed and proceeded to unwrap G's right thigh bandage. "Either you talk to me or you talk to someone else on our team."

"Right now, no one and that's final." He buried his face in the pillow and clutched the sheets with his fists. Sam straddled G's legs and swabbed his left butt cheek.

"Damn it, I said no, what part of no—" He flinched and stifled a scream. "Bastard! You didn't even count this time."

"I know your right thigh doesn't bother you as much as your left, but you showed definite signs of pain just now."

"I hate needles!"

"And?"

"Damn it, Sam, you're good at giving injections, but I still hate needles."

Sam finished unwrapping the bandage from his thigh and examined the wound. "I am surprised to say this looks good."

"Surprised?"

"With you in that much pain I expected to find bad news under the bandage."

"And it looks good?"

"Yep." Sam bandaged G's right thigh again and sealed it with tape. Afterward he laid down next him, stroking his partner's face.

G turned his head to face him. "Thank you for taking care of me when I'm stubborn."

"That's not what I wanted to hear, but your welcome." He kissed G's forehead. "Were you in pain?"

"Yeah, but I didn't care and I didn't want you to inject me and I don't know why, damn it, there I go again sounding as if my mouth is a submachine gun spattering gunfire everywhere." He released a long, pent up sigh and edged closer to Sam. "Hold me, damn it, I feel screwed up inside ever since I wrote down that name. I should've never told you or Hetty. Crap."

"Flashbacks?"

"Yeah, that's why I watched television, to avoid them," he said, snuggling into his partner. "I wonder if the unsub is him. I thought about this before too and never shared it. I guess I should've told you or Hetty, but there's no memories of anything which happened during my… time with him."

"Your _time_ with him?"

"Damn it, I… he and I spent time together somewhere."

"You know this, how?"

"I told you, vague flashbacks where bits and pieces of the memories are revealed." G buried his face in Sam's chest, wrapping his hands around one of his partner's arms and holding on it to as if the world as he knew it was about to end.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>G stood in the doorway to Sam's office staring at his partner as he worked on the case, poring over intel reports from both his computer and his cell phone. It was well past midnight and four days since someone attempted to murder him. And G couldn't stop thinking about Demyan and who he was and what this man might have done to him. The nightmares had increased twofold since the third morning when he told Hetty about this man's name. Yet he failed to remember even just one of them. And then there were nonsensical flashbacks he refused to talk about with Sam. Now, Hetty had been informed of his reluctance to talk about the flashbacks and she elected to send Nate over in the morning. The whole scenario made him cringe. He wanted nothing to do with talking to anyone outside of Sam about this. G feared he would go nuts with whatever he remembered. Must be a reason why all the nightmares and flashbacks faded so fast that he did not have time to talk about them. That is the part he had a difficult time explaining to Sam and Hetty. Yet they both assured him they could help with Nate's assistance. On one hand, it worried him and on the other hand it soothed his mixed up mind and raw emotions.<p>

"G?" Sam asked a second time.

He startled upon hearing Sam's voice.

"You okay, babe?"

"No." He glanced down at his bare feet which were never cold on Sam's radiant heated floors. It was chillier fall than usual in Los Angeles. He had not felt cold since Sam made love to him three nights ago. Four days and yet it felt as if it had been weeks since the accident.

Sam patted his lap signaling to his partner that he could enter the office. G half-limped over to his partner's side and climbed onto his lap. His battered thighs kept him from fluently walking toward the office desk. Three more days before he would know whether the stitches could be removed. He feared that day's arrival believing that Sam and he would no longer need each other and this relationship would be over. Those fears loomed ever closer as the days passed. Maybe Sam would make him go under protective custody with another team member. It would not be the first time someone acted as if they cared about him and afterwards kicked him to the curb when they had enough of him. His difficult and volatile childhood wreaked havoc in relationships. Not one person had stayed around long enough to get to know him. Not one person cared to know him. For the most part, when it came down to knowing him and his dark past, his lovers skirted the subject thus rejecting him.

"You okay?" Sam asked again.

"Thinking."

"Too hard."

"At times I do and this is one of those times." He rested his head on Sam's shoulder. "I'm nervous about tomorrow and what Nate's gonna do to me."

"Nervous about talking?"

"Hetty said it's more than that," he said. "It's nerve-wracking to think what she meant by that."

"As usual you're a worrisome guy." Sam wrapped his arms around G's shoulders and hugged him. He kissed his lover's forehead. "What can I do to settle your nerves?"

"What you do to calm and relax me."

"My specialty?"

"Yeah."

"I'm almost finished in here," he said. "Give me five more minutes, and I'll be in to tuck you into bed."

"And make me into a giant s'more sandwich?"

"Yeah."

Before he slipped off of Sam's lap, he raised his head and gave his partner a soft kiss on the mouth.

He returned to the bedroom and did something he acted out since he worked at the DEA. At times, the thought passed through his mind. He never acted upon it. G hid in the farthest corner of the large walk-in closet off the master bathroom. After he tucked himself into the corner, he pulled his knees to his chest, and encircled his knees with both arms. He rocked back and forth trying to soothe his frightened mind as flashback after flashback bombarded his brain with images too terrifying to speak about.

This time, he remembered every flashback which flooded his mind.

This time, he shuddered and shivered with each new revelation about Demyan.

This time, he came close to the brink of insanity and vomited until he passed out.

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><p><strong>Thanks for all the great reviews. Thanks for reading my story.<strong>


	5. Non Compos Mentis, Ch 4

Thanks for the great reviews and support: blondie134, Sweetpea, Luv2CGWhumped, Sissy, mewmar, Rita, CALLEN37, Dixie, and Judy.

**Title: Rogue Agents**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Non Compos Mentis<strong>

**Chapter 4**

#

Warmth at last encompassed his shivering and shuddering body, G pressed into the warm body which held him close. No baby fresh scent and that bothered him. But he surrendered and allowed the man to hold him in the hot water. His tender touch. His supporting arms. His smooth skin. G released a long sigh and settled further back into the man's arms. He needed human touch and the man knew it and gave it sparingly, but he craved it and gave into the man's stingy ways once again. G remembered an article he read years ago about children dying when human touch was withheld. He understood that reality now and leaned into the man, who held the key to his very existence as a living, breathing human being. G sighed again as the man drew circles on his back with his long, thin, sinewy fingers. The man's fingertips were rough and sandpapery. He loved the feel on his back, a cross between a massage and a scratch. The man's other hand reached down to his groin, rubbing and pressing on his now stiff member bringing him close to an orgasm and then backing off again and repeating it. G shoved his hips forward wanting more of that touch and hoping for a release. Those releases were few and far between. He longed for them. The man knew it. All this tender loving treatment is what he craved and needed, but it would not last. G savored each moment until their special time ended.

#

G's eyes flew open. He awakened from a semi-conscious, dream state to a fully conscious one. "Crap!" His arms flailed in the hot water, trying to free himself from the man who held him. He feared what might do to him next. "Let me go, damn it, let me go, I promise, I made you a promise." He thrashed his body back and forth and kicked his legs.

"Easy, take it easy, G." Sam cooed soft in his ear while trying to hold him steady on his lap in the oversized soaking tub. "You're safe. Nobody's gonna hurt you." When his partner settled down long enough, he stroked his upper back staying clear of his wounds. "Relax man, that's it."

"Crap, my—the stitches—no—in the water." He started to lift off of Sam's lap.

"Easy, G, it's okay, don't worry about that right now," he said. "Settle down."

"Why did you do this?"

"I had to you were in shock."

G's jaw slacked open. "Shock?"

"Do you remember what happened?"

"I got triggered by something you said, hid in your closet, and started having flashbacks."

"What triggered you?"

"Can't." G turned his face into Sam's chest, tears flooding his eyes. "I need you to hold me."

"I am, man, what—"

He jerked away from his touch and slid down into the water. "Damn it!"

Sam drew G back into his arms, turning him around to face him. He held him closer. "How's this?" G relaxed and sighed. "Must be what you need." G's lips and chin trembled. "What is it?" Sam gazed into his sapphire blue eyes.

"He, damn it, hurt me." He buried his face between Sam's neck and shoulder.

"Demyan?"

"Yeah, hurt me bad." G wrapped his arms around his partner's neck and shuddered, memories flooding his mind again. Sam surrounded his partner's upper back and lowered their bodies into the water until they were mostly submerged under the hot water. "So cold." He shivered hard and tightened his grip on Sam's neck.

"Easy, man, you don't need to talk about this if you're not ready."

He raised his head and eased his hold on his partner's neck. "What?"

"Nate told me to give you some slack on this."

"Is he coming here?"

"It's past that time."

"What?" G's jaw fell open. "What time is it?"

"You were unconscious for almost seven hours," Sam said. "I was worried and Nate told me you were okay."

_Seven hours. _"Okay, I don't get it—"

"Meaning, you were beginning to remember," he said. "I needed to not worry about your mental state."

"That's why Hetty was sending him over here?"

"Yeah, you weren't remembering anything, only having flashbacks and nightmares." Sam sighed. "They weren't resolving anything except increasing your anxiety."

"When you told me to wait five minutes."

"What?" He asked, glancing at his partner sideways.

"That's when I got triggered."

"I wonder why that—"

"Don't!" G averted his eyes to the tub wall and cringed.

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><p># # #<p>

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><p>G sat on a well cushioned chair at the dining room table across from Sam, eating his steak dinner and watching his partner eat. He eyed the man as he did when he had ogled him the first time a year and a half ago, scrutinizing his every move.<p>

Sam glanced up from his steak dinner. "I feel as if I'm being watched by a wild cat ready to pounce."

He licked his lips.

"I see you're in agreement." He set his steak knife and fork on his plate and pushed it aside. Afterwards he leaned over the table and shoved G's plate aside.

"Hey, I wasn't finished with my—"

Sam surrounded G's chest under his arms and dragged him across the table. "You told me you liked it rough." He drew him into his arms and planted a claiming kiss on G's lips. "Delicious steak and potato flavor with a slight taste of A-1 sauce. I thought you said sans the sauce."

"I never said—"

He turned his partner to face the opposite direction, forcing him onto the table and pulling him down to the table's edge. "Ready?" Sam opened his bathrobe.

G pushed upward attempting to stand and get off the table. "No!"

Sam pressed his huge hand on his partner's lower back pushing him onto the table again. "You act as if—"

"Damn it, let me up!" He squirmed on the table nausea rising from the pit of his stomach. A bitter taste surged up to the back of his throat. G reached his hand out for a steak knife. Sam forced his hand flat against the table. "Let me go!"

"Easy, man, take it easy." He brought G up to a standing position and flipped his partner around to face him. G hurled on the floor and Sam's feet. "Damn it, at least tell me you're gonna be—"

"Screw you, asshole." He jerked away from Sam and rushed out of the room. He made it into the guest bathroom just in time. G hurled twice more into the toilet. Upon seeing the man enter the bathroom, he pulled a washcloth off a towel rack, swiped it across his face, and backed into a corner. "Get out!" He threw the washcloth on the floor.

"Listen something must've triggered you and I'm—"

"Stuff it jerk." He inched along the wall toward the door. "Don't even try to touch me," he said holding up his hands in front of his chest.

"What set this off, man?"

"What?" He asked. "More like who, damn it, you, it was you, stay away from me." He slid past the man in the bathroom with him. G rushed in the bedroom.

Sam followed his partner into the bedroom. "Come on, I was having fun with you."

He grabbed the sweats off a chest of drawers and started dressing.

"Don't walk away from this."

"Yeah, easy for you to say after you raped me."

"What?" Sam's jaw dropped. "You told me earlier you liked it rough and I was—"

"Raping me." He grabbed his shoes and stared at the dried blood on them. "How did these get like this? Did you do this? What the hell did you do to me? Damn it answer me!"

"Give me a chance, man." He sat next to his partner. "I think you're having a burp again." G glanced at him sideways. "A hiccup."

He sighed. "Something isn't right." G put his shoes on without socks. "Where are my socks?"

"Where are you gonna go, man?"

G stared down at his clothes and then at the chest of drawers in front of him. "I need to go home and I'm hoping you'll let me go home."

"Hetty—"

"Who?"

"I think you need to see Nate."

"Who the hell is that?"

"G look at me," Sam said, gently grasping his partner's shoulders and turning his partner to face him.

"I'm, damn it." Tears welled up in his sapphire blue eyes. "I don't know where I am or how I got here or, help me."

"Where is here?"

"His—place."

"Who's place?" Sam asked slow and calm.

"Demyan's."

"I think we need to talk to someone and get you some help."

"I need to leave and he won't let me leave and he's coming back soon and he's gonna—" G buried his face in his hands. "—and I can't do this another day without going crazy and I need to leave." He mumbled into his hands and shuddered.

Sam released his partner's shoulders, stood and grabbed his cell phone off the nightstand. "I'm gonna help you, okay, I'm gonna help you leave." He autodialed Nate's number. "Yeah, I need you over here ASAP and bring a qualified doctor. I can't be more specific. Just do it and get here fast."

"You mean a psychiatrist?"

"Yeah, and what they use to calm and relax people," Sam said. "I can't go into details right now."

"Understood."

He disconnected and returned to G's side sitting on the bed. "A friend is coming over to help."

"No!" He shot off the bed and raced out of the bedroom. Sam chased after him, catching up with him at the front door. "What the hell is wrong with this door? Why won't it open?" G rattled the doorknob a more than once and gave up.

"Here let me help you." He stepped in front of him blocking his exit. "Why don't we sit down in the den?"

"Where?"

"I'll show you." Sam unlocked the front door and guided G toward the den.

He stopped outside the doorway and glanced over his shoulder at the front door. "I need to leave."

"After we talk."

They sat on the divan each at an end of it facing one another. When the front door opened and closed, G shot off the divan and backed into a corner, shaking and panting. He watched the two men enter the den. He cringed.

"When did this start?" Nate asked.

"About thirty minutes ago," Sam said, keeping his voice lowered. "I believe I triggered him. He doesn't recognize the house or me. It's possible he's altered enough that he believes he's at that man's place." He eyed his partner in the corner.

"This is Brenton, our you-know-what."

"How are we gonna do this?"

"I want you to hold him since he knows and trusts you," Brenton said.

Sam glanced over at his partner again and sighed. He closed the gap between them and faced him. "G, let me hold you."

"I know who you are and where I am and I don't want any drugs," he said, gazing up into his partner's eyes.

"What's my name?" He asked testing his partner's reality.

"Sam."

"Okay, now let me hold you."

"No, can't do this and you won't understand, man." G eyed Nate and Brenton. "I need them to go, now."

Sam crossed the room and came beside the two men. "I'll take this from here," he said. "If Brenton can be on call for the psych medicines. I need a prescription for Dilaudid."

"What?" Brenton asked. "This is highly—"

"He was in a serious vehicle accident and has wounds over his lower back and thighs," he said. "I want psych medicines used only as a last resort."

"And you believed this was a last resort scenario?"

Sam eyed his partner in the corner again. "Yeah, but looks as if the crisis is over for now."

"I'll see what I can do to set you up with an emergency on call psych nurse to administer the medicines," Brenton said. "As for the Dilaudid, it's a controlled substance and—"

"I'm well aware of that fact and was given it for a severe injury which I suffered a few years ago."

"I'll see what I arrange for you on that, perhaps something less strong and pill form."

"Thanks." Sam glanced over his shoulder at his partner who was now sitting on the divan with a blanket wrapped around him. "We okay?"

"Yeah," Nate said, tugging at Sam's arm and pulling him aside. He lowered his voice. "I had to apprise Hetty of this situation."

"Understood, no problem, anything else?"

"How's he doing, seriously, Hetty wants to know too."

"I'm not sure I can answer that question after this hiccup."

"Hiccup?"

"That's what I'm calling them," Sam said.

"Call me if you need anything." Nate turned and left the den following Brenton toward the front door.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>Sam sat on the divan closer to his partner this time. After G knew the men were gone he crawled across the divan and snuggled up to Sam, wrapping his arms around his waist. Sam pulled the blanket around him. "I'm sorry—"<p>

"Please don't say anything about what happened," G said. "I'm too triggered to deal with what happened between us in the dining room."

"You completely lost it."

"Yeah, I know, damn it, I know, I thought, crap, you were that guy."

"Demyan?"

"Yeah."

"What about your reaction to Nate and Brenton, it was over the top too?"

"Made me flashback to a time at another agency."

"Which one?"

He ignored his partner's question. "I freaked out and they held me down while a psychiatrist injected me with two drugs." G shuddered seeing back to that moment in time when his own teammates had restrained him on the carpet outside the meeting room at the DEA. He had flipped out about their last operation and struggled to gain composure during the meeting. Halfway through the 'conversation,' G rushed out of the room in a panicked state and didn't understand why. Any talk about that operation sent him in a tailspin which lasted for several days, and each time ended with G being restrained by his teammates and drugged. Afterward, they placed in the infirmary until the drugs wore off.

"G?"

He glanced up into Sam's face. "Deep in thought."

"Who held you down and where did this happen?"

"I can't, damn it, won't talk about this," he said. "Why do you want to know? You'll leave me anyhow. Kick me to the curb and split."

"What?" Sam's left eyebrow raised.

G pulled away. "Forget it."

He drew his partner's upper body onto his lap, facing him. "What's this crap you keep talking about, man?" He asked. "I'm not gonna kick you to the curb anytime soon. Who did that to you?"

He stared at his partner's chest peeking out between the sides of the white polar fleece bathrobe. It helped him keep his emotions in check. He felt that same feeling he suffered several times at the DEA. Close to a freak out, but not understanding why he was triggered. "You will and don't try to convince me otherwise."

"Did it happen after an operation at The Agency?"

"No."

"Closer to knowing the truth now," Sam said. "The FBI or the DEA?"

"I hate it when you keep pursuing answers."

"You mean when I'm a great investigator."

G reached out and touched the small triangle of exposed cocoa-colored skin on his partner's chest with his middle finger. "Yeah." Sam grasped his hand and drew it toward his face sticking the finger in his mouth and sucking on it. "Now you're toying with my body and mind."

"Toying?" He asked. "Hardly. Enticing you? Yeah, always."

"It happened after an operation," G said. "I don't remember the operation."

"Nothing about it?"

Damn. "All right, yes, one thing, that guy's name."

"Demyan?"

"Crap, yes, okay, and that's it."

"Which one is it?"

"Why must you know?"

"You know me by now, I'm not letting up until you tell me." He kissed his partner's hand and sucked on his finger again. "Tasty morsel." Sam drew G closer toward his face while leaning over to kiss him. "Quite tasty."

He jerked away from his partner's touch. "I don't want this right now."

"You were burned by a woman."

Tears welled up in his blue eyes.

"What did she do?" Sam asked. "Kick you to the curb."

G turned his face toward Sam's chest averting his eyes from his partner's scrutinizing ones.

"Before or after your encounter with Demyan."

"Long after."

"She jettisoned the relationship in your darkest hour."

He swallowed hard. "One of many darkest hours."

Sam lifted G's chin and kissed him again. "I won't do that to you, man."

He pulled away. "Liar!"

Sam drew him back into him again. "Have you given me a chance to prove myself?"

"I can't give you that chance."

"She hurt you bad, didn't she?" G nodded. "Thought so and that's why you gave up on relationships. Give me that chance, I won't turn my back on you."

"That's a damned lie and you know—"

Sam enveloped G's mouth again forcing his tongue inside. His kiss lingered for several minutes. "Is it?" G wrenched away from his partner, trying to slide off his lap. "Not happening." He drew his partner back onto his lap. "You're not leaving until we finish this."

"I'm finished, damn it, I'm done with this."

"Must've been the worst—"

"Stop it!"

"Why do you want to throw this away?"

"I won't allow myself to get burned by a relationship again, ever."

"You promised yourself."

G remembered back to that horrible night years ago. He was at the end of himself. She dumped him. She kicked him to the curb. He shuddered hard. "I was in a crisis."

"Caused by?"

"Remembering what happened to me."

"You mean flashbacks?"

"Yeah, I lost it in a meeting and they restrained and drugged me," he said. "You now have the truth of what happened."

"And what transpired with her and who was she?"

He sighed. "Can't stop can you?"

"Have I ever?"

"No." He released a longer sigh. "She and I were an item for a long time. Dated and took things slow."

"How slow?"

"Years and all after the incident with Demyan," G said. "We moved in together. I moved in with her, but she wanted me to be, I don't know, this strong guy at all times, something I wasn't all the time, and that all came apart as time passed."

"Came apart?"

"I felt safe with her and let down my guard, became vulnerable, damn, and she pounced on me one night when I wasn't that strong, resilient man she met years before."

"Pounced?"

"Attacked me, berating me for falling apart on her."

"After one of those times at work where you had a crisis."

"Yeah." The worst one. "I was sent home early and damn, remember when I hid in your closet? I did the same thing at her place."

Sam's jaw slacked open. "They sent you home in a crisis?"

"I hadn't compensated and I refused to go to the hospital," G said. "Hospitals and I are not on the best of speaking terms. In the middle of the afternoon, I hid in her walk-in closet needing to be alone and wanting darkness." He shuddered. "She came home, crap, and searched the house for me. After she found me huddled in the closet rocking my body back and forth, she started her ranting. She stared at me and finally said, 'Get out, just get out now before I start screaming at you.' I stared at her in disbelief, dumbfounded by her cruel words. I expected her to be understanding. Maybe to sit with me until my crisis passed as I had done for her a few times. She continued her monologue. 'You're supposed to be the strong, resilient man and take care of me. Look at you. You're a pathetic wimp. I wondered if you told me the truth about what you did for a living. I no longer believe it could be any type of law enforcement, because you're a loser and a complete freak. Now pack your things and get out! When I come home I expect to find you gone.'" Those words still stung him all these years later. He vowed to never allow someone to get that close again.

"I'm sorry, man, sorry that—"

"Save your words," G said. "You'll eventually do the same thing."

"I won't, I promise."

"I've heard it again and again."

"Tested relationships first."

"Yeah, and they all failed within the first several weeks."

Sam sighed. "And they would, because you've expected a new relationship to bear the burden of an established one."

"I'm done with long term relationships."

"So you burned every one of them to prove a point."

"Yeah, so?"

Sam shook his head. "Well, it is not gonna work with me."

"And why would _you_ be any different?"

"What happened after you left her place?" He grasped his partner's chin and gazed into his eyes. "The crisis deepened?" G nodded. "I'm sorry she did that to you. You didn't deserve that kind of treatment regardless of her state of mind."

"Years later, she saw me at a coffee house and sat next to me at the bar," he said. "She started to open her mouth to apologize. I told her to leave, and that I didn't want to hear her excuses. Her jaw dropped open in complete surprise and she got up and left the coffee house. I never saw her again. Later, I moved away from the area."

"When you got hired by NCIS?"

"Yeah."

"What happened after you left her place?"

"Persistent." G's brow furrowed. "I couldn't work for almost two weeks. They paid for my sick leave, but I didn't know about it until I returned to work twelve days later."

"What happened with you?"

"You won't let this slide."

"Do I ever?"

"I didn't eat for days," G said. "I disconnected all my phones. I slept in the closet on my sleeping bag with a blanket. From that point in my life, I started sleeping in a new place every couple of weeks and never on the bed."

"That's when it all started, the constant moving."

"Yeah, the fear he'd find me and the fear she'd find me."

"Both of them did something similar to you."

"Yeah, never thought about it like that."

"Maybe it's time you laid that relationship to rest and got on with your life."

"You mean trust you?"

"Yeah."

G released a long sigh which came out in sputters. "I haven't trusted anyone since that relationship," he said. "I vowed I never would again." After that day, he had not declined into a non compos mentis state as he had done after that devastating breakup. He feared the consequences of trusting another person; G needed to protect himself from the possibility of another breakup which could overwhelm and shatter his life. And the worst? He suspected the memories from what this quintessential creep did years ago would surface and destroy him. G believed that if he kept running and hiding from relationships, he stayed one step ahead of a full-blown crisis.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading my story.<p> 


	6. Nuts, Bananas, and S'mores, Ch 5

****Thanks for the reviews and for reading my story. I love reviews!

**Title: Rogue Agents**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Nuts, Bananas, and S'mores<strong>

**Chapter 5**

G undressed and laid prone on the wine-colored beach towel Sam had placed on the bed. He did not look forward to another round of wound care. After his short trip into a non compos mentis state, it was necessary for Sam to dress the wounds and examine the stitches to make sure they were intact. When he saw his partner enter the master bedroom with his fishing tackle box, he cringed and shuddered and released a sigh.

Sam settled down on the opposite side of the king-size bed and readied the necessary accoutrements for the task ahead. "We good?" He asked after placing a towel on his partner's buttocks.

"Yeah."

He edged over to G's legs and removed the bandages. Afterward, he examined his thighs first as they were the worst of the wounds. "I'm surprised."

"I hope in a good way."

"Yep, looks exceptional and maybe needs a little disinfecting with the betadine solution."

"The wicked orange liquid."

"Better than the witch hazel."

"Definitely."

Sam prepared several betadine soaked sterile pads and cleaned the three larger wounds on G's thighs. Next, he cleaned the wounds on his mid and lower back. "A nice shade of orange once again. The color suits you."

"Sam, what if I can't trust you in a relationship?"

"Don't expect an overnight change," he said finishing up the wound care and putting away his supplies. "You were violated by your girlfriend and by Demyan. You haven't to share what he did to you. I'm sure that has a bearing on your level of trust too."

"And what if I start to go nuts when I remember what he did?"

"Then will make banana splits, they're chock full of nuts." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

G turned his head to face Sam. "I like the sound of that." He cracked a wry smile. "And afterward you'll serve me a s'more?"

"Now you're talking," he said. "Seriously, Brenton's arranged for an on call psychiatric nurse to administer drugs if needed. And I'll be here to help you through those memories. Whatever it takes, man." Sam wrapped the three wounds on G's thighs.

"We done?"

"Yep."

"I need you to hold me," G said, whimpering.

Sam dropped everything into the box, closed it, and climbed off the bed. He lifted G into his arms and cradled him until his partner's cries subsided. "What brought this on?"

"I tested you, damn it, I did it to you too, and I feel horrible about it."

"Don't beat yourself up, babe, just surrender to me and let go."

G wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and pulled him down into a kiss. "I need a s'more sandwich."

"To bury your feelings?"

"Scared, damn it, I'm scared to remember what that quintessential creep did to me," he said. "And I'm afraid it'll cause me to go certifiable."

"You're not gonna go certifiable with me here, I promise, man." Sam sat on the bed. "You've been eating too many banana splits." He winked at his partner.

"Not one yet, but I wish I had something to hide behind, anything."

He laid down with G next to him stroking his shoulders and upper back. "Talk to me about where you worked."

"If I tell you that you'll find out about everything," he said. "What this guy did to me and I don't think I'm ready for that."

"So you do remember what he did to you."

"Parts of it I've always remembered," G said. "The rest comes in flashes of pictures which fade too fast for me to remember. Now I'm finally recalling them too."

"Where did you work?"

"Can't go there, Sam." He snuggled closer to Sam. "Please make love to me."

"Not until we've hashed this out."

"I need to sleep in the guest room."

Sam turned G to face him. "What are you saying, man?"

"I need you and I can't handle this closeness without some kind of sexual release."

"I think you're using it as medicine to treat your emotional pain."

"So?" G rolled to a sitting position on the side of the bed.

"Come on, man, lie back and let me hold you."

He shot off the bed too fast and felt dizzy, staggering for a few steps before regaining his balance. "No!" G grabbed the sweats off the chest of drawers and his shoes heading toward the guest bedroom. Sam came along side him and blocked the bedroom door. "Damn it, stop this, I need some space."

"You mean some avoidance."

"Maybe, this is too close."

"I won't stop you if you need some space, because of what you're going through." Sam stepped aside. "Be my guest. Don't stay away too long. I'd miss you." He opened the bedroom door and ushered G inside. "Sleep well, babe."

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>Sam knocked on the guest bedroom door several times before deciding to open it. His jaw dropped. The window was open and the screen pushed out. "I'll kill him, man, he lied to me." Back in the master bedroom, he grabbed his cell phone and autodialed Hetty's number. "Gone, damn it, I said he's gone." Sam stepped up to the opened window and scanned his backyard. "He might have injured himself. I found blood on the window sill and bloodied handprints on the outside wall."<p>

"Or someone got him?" Hetty asked.

"I don't think so," Sam said. "Earlier, I saw the wheels turning in his head."

"How much did he reveal?"

"Not enough for me to put the pieces together."

"No names besides Demyan?"

"Nope, but I believe he'll go home," he said, "and I don't know why yet."

"Get him Mr. Hanna and bring him back there," she said, "and for his sake, restrain him if you have to. If necessary, I'll send LAPD after him."

"He won't like it, but I'll do it if you order it," Sam said. "I wouldn't send LAPD after him."

"You wouldn't?"

"I'll handle this, Hetty."

"All right, find him and take care of him, Mr. Hanna."

Sam released the breath he was holding. "On my way right now." He shut off his cell phone, pocketed it, and grabbed his gun and holster out of his safe. After securing the holster at his waist, he placed his loaded gun in it. On the way out the front door, Sam dressed in a leather jacket.

He fumed over his partner's sly escape during the ride to G's home. One thing he added to his accessories were the handcuffs from his nightstand drawer. If necessary, he intended to use them on his partner. He hoped it did not come to that. When he arrived at G's home, he removed the SIG-Hauer P228 from his holster and edged toward the front door, hunkering down close to the ground. Sam was not taking any chances with what little he knew about G's perpetrator. He listened at the door, pressing his ear to it. The TV was blaring away and it sounded as if it were MTV. A few months ago, G had alluded to purchasing a TV to keep his mind occupied on sleepless nights. Sam tried the doorknob and found it was unlocked, he slipped inside keeping to the shadows and close to the walls.

"Freeze! Federal agent."

"I hope you don't plan to shoot me."

"I can't believe you just strolled into my house unannounced," G said, still holding the gun trained on his partner's body.

"And I can't believe you bullshitted me into believing you needed some space." Sam sighed and turned to face him. "You lied to me and for what purpose?"

He lowered his weapon and holstered it. "I needed to find something."

Sam's eyes widened. "What?"

"I woke up from this odd dream and had an answer to a question," G Said. "I needed to find the intel associated with it."

"Show me."

"No."

Sam holstered his weapon and crossed the room in three strides to where G stood by the front door. "That's not a request, it's an order."

"Hetty's or yours?"

"Both, show me." When he realized his partner was not about to move, he wrestled G into a choke hold, forcing his arms behind his back. "Don't make this difficult."

G jerked his body and his arms trying to escape Sam's hold. "Stop this, man, I'll kill you."

"Sounds like the words I spoke when I found the window open in the guest bedroom and you gone."

"Release me, asshole!"

"Not happening, G, Hetty told me to restrain you if necessary."

He glanced over his shoulder. "You mean handcuffs?"

"Yeah." Sam jingled them behind his partner.

"I'll show you what you want to know if—"

"You'll show me without any deals or bribes, now move it." He turned G in the direction of the bedroom. "Move it before I blow my lid." When he failed to move, Sam pushed his partner toward the bedroom.

"Sounds as if you already did that." He plodded into his bedroom and waited for Sam's next orders.

"Show it to me and stop stalling."

G sighed. "It's under the bed."

"Since when did you buy a bed?"

"Several months ago when I bought the TV, but I don't use it."

"That's a shame."

"Don't plan on using it, asshole!"

"Over here and sit on the bed." G glared at him. "I don't trust you." Sam held up the handcuffs and then stuffed them in a back pocket.

"You don't have to get nasty about it."

"Oh, I apparently do, because you lied to me and right now I don't trust you," Sam said. "My alternative to coming here was to allow Hetty to have you arrested by LAPD. I saved your sorry ass. I'm not sure why I did that yet." He kneeled on the floor and reached his hands under the bed grabbing a 17 inch laptop and placing it on the bare mattress. "Anything else you care to tell me about while I'm down here?" Sam eyed his partner. G shook his head. "Time to pack some clothes for you. Jean or sweats?"

"I'm staying here."

"Like hell you are, Hetty's orders."

"Damn it, I want to stay here."

"Alone?"

G stared at the hardwood floor before him. "Yeah, alone."

"Until we know where Demyan is, you're with me," Sam said. "Where's a suitcase?"

"Don't have one."

"Come on G, stop being a pain."

"Damn it, man, I don't have a blasted suitcase!"

"A duffle bag?"

"In my closet."

Sam opened the door and stared into it. G's bedroll lay unfurled on the floor along with a pillow and a blanket. He glanced over his shoulder at his partner and then back at the closet's floor. Sam hoisted a duffle bag off the floor and started to pack it with t-shirts, sweats, jeans, socks, athletic shoes, and an extra pair of boots. "You want me to pack your bedroll?"

"No."

Sam hoisted the duffle bag over his shoulder and closed the closet door. After laying the duffle bag on the bed, he shoved the laptop into it.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>When they arrived home, Sam helped G out of the car, grabbed the duffle bag, and strode to the front door. "You really know how to piss someone off, and you didn't even apologize."<p>

G lowered his head. "Nothing to say."

"Where do you suggest I handcuff you to?" Sam asked when he entered the master bedroom. He sat G down on the bed. "You didn't give me a choice at your house. I had to put these on to get you out to the car. Damn it."

"Maybe take them off." At the last minute, G decided to make a run for his car. But Sam reacted faster than he had hoped he would, tackling him to the floor before he got to the front door. Mistake. Handcuffs were the last thing he wanted on his wrists. They were too familiar. Yet he had no memory to go with that feeling.

"Right, and you'll stay in here without putting up a fight."

"I promise."

"And you want me to trust you?"

G sucked on his lower lip. "I guess you wouldn't now."

"You're damned right," he said. "First, I need to see what you did to yourself climbing out of that window." Sam removed the handcuffs. "You and windows don't get along well. Lie face down."

G readily complied with Sam's orders knowing not to protest or argue the point.

Sam removed his partner's weapon and holster. "You won't be needing these." He locked it up in the safe along with his own weapon and holster. "I hope I won't need mine." He stripped G's sweats down to his ankles and pushed up his sweatshirt. "Thought so, raspberries. You really know how to mess up your body. Lie still while I tend to these _new_ wounds." Sam grabbed his tackle box and set it on the floor next to the bed. He kneeled beside it. "Wish I believed in corporal punishment. I'd flog this butt right now if I did." The corners of his mouth turned upward. "Your ass might look good all rosy red too." He applied the betadine solution to the new scrapes on G's back and legs.

"Don't even—ouch." He gasped.

"Ouch, is that all you have to say, man, just ouch?"

"That damned stuff stings, man."

"Yep," Sam said. "Not even a single apology."

"Would it help if I did?"

"No." After he finished tending to G's wounds, he checked the stitches on his thighs. Sam put away the betadine solution and the sterile pads and stood. "You're a real piece of work, man, trying to show me how much trouble you can get yourself into in a week. Now pull up your sweats and follow me. Time for a talk about what's on that laptop computer." Sam grabbed the handcuffs off the nightstand and strode toward the den. He sat at one end of the divan while G sat at the other end. "Is this the way it's gonna be? You're the one who Houdinied me."

G glanced at him sideways.

"You know, Houdini?"

"I had my reasons." He stared at the divan between them.

"You always have your reasons, man, but that doesn't mean they are sound," he said. "Talk to me without me having to force the answers out of you as if you're in an interrogation."

He eyed the handcuffs in Sam's hands.

"I'll put them away if you talk, freely."

"I figured out why the guy ran from the safe house." G stood and started to pace the room. It wasn't something he normally did. He couldn't stand sitting any longer. The bugs-crawling-around-in-his-gut feeling, which he used to have all the time when he worked for the DEA, had intensified after he revealed Demyan's name to Hetty. "The accident was on 9/10/11 and the creep was playing with my mind and reminding me about what happened."

"What are you talking about?" Sam tilted his head.

"I'm fairly certain the unsub is the same man who… damn… captured me years ago." The other possibility caused him to shudder deep within, one of his teammates programmed by Demyan to keep tabs on him.

"Captured you?"

He sighed and stopped pacing and faced Sam. "Crap, I can't talk about those details yet." G sucked on his lower lip. "He was sending me a code."

"A what?"

"I know it doesn't make sense to you, but it does to me."

"And I suppose if I opened your laptop, it will make more sense to me."

G sighed with one of his disgusted-with-someone sighs, long and extra loud. "Yeah." He flashed back to the day he created the files on his laptop. "Nine, ten, eleven, and twelve is the next number."

"Come on, man, of course twelve is the next—"

"Damn it, Sam, it's not about sequence, it's about being held twelve months in captivity and the creep reminding me of that."

Sam's jaw slacked open. "Twelve months?"

"Yeah." G stared at the divan and blanket on it trying to focus on anything, but Sam's face.

"And you remembered this when?"

"It was this morning."

"Nightmare?"

"Yeah, and more."

"Let me get this straight," Sam said. "You were captured and held in captivity by Demyan for one year."

He sighed. "Not quite," G said, "you got it all right except for his name."

"Wait a minute, you told me his name was Demyan."

"I thought it was until I perused my laptop again."

"You're having memory lapses?"

"What?" After all of this, he better not be losing his mind. Maybe this was another burp or a hiccup as Sam would say. He hoped it wasn't, because a mind is necessary for undercover work.

"Memory lapses."

"No." No way.

"Yes, man, memory lapses."

G stepped back several feet. "Maybe, damn it, what does that mean?"

"I don't know, man, I'll need to run this by Nate."

"No!" He rushed out of the den.

Sam stared at the spot where his partner had been standing for a few moments before following him. He found G in the master bedroom on the floor with the laptop computer in his lap.

"I'm losing my mind," he said, resting his head in his hands and massaging his temples. "Could it be the concussion?" G asked without glancing up from his computer.

"It was mild and you recovered from it after a day."

"I was hoping you wouldn't tell me that."

Sam sat on the floor in front of his partner. "We'll figure this out, man, I promise." He pulled the computer off G's lap and drew the man into his body, holding him close. "Don't worry about it, babe." He stroked his partner's shoulders and upper back.

G snuggled into Sam and hid his face in his partner's chest, wrapping his arms around his neck. "Hold me tighter against you," he said. "I need to hide in you."

"Memory?" He nodded. "I've got you."

"Operation Demyan." He shuddered and whimpered burying his face deeper into Sam's chest.

"I want to read what's on your laptop computer," he said. "Will you allow me to do that?"

G shuddered again. "Afraid of what you'll see and then know."

"I won't judge you, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's personal, and worse, damn, it's illegal."

Sam pulled back from him and gazed into his partner's eyes. "Illegal?"

"Hacked."

"From what?"

"If I tell you, you'll know too much," G said. "I'm not ready to tell you about what and where it happened." He had kept this secret all these years for a reason. G needed to prevent himself from being swallowed up by another crisis.

"Still not ready?" Sam drew him back into his arms. "We'll take this real slow then." He stroked and caressed G's head and shoulders, and kissed his head.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>From the den, G eavesdropped on Sam's conversation with their operations supervisor. Sam had called Hetty about G's short trip to his house. She came right over to Sam's house. It worried him, because she now knew he had intel on his laptop computer. <em>His personal, laptop computer. <em>G turned down the TV's sound lower and lower to hear what they were saying. Several times now he heard his partner say the word 'operation' with the next word trailing off into a near whisper. He swore it sounded like Demyan and it probably was, knowing Sam and knowing Hetty and her need to know. G stretched and rolled to his side to get a better angle on the TV, and an intensified funnel effect on the conversation in the dining room down the hall. A half turn almost on his stomach and the TV's remote crash landed on the glass topped, redwood stump coffee table. Damn it, so much for an unnoticed surveillance. G grabbed the remote off the table and placed it on the floor.

"Couldn't stand it one more minute?" Sam asked, entering the den and hesitating at the doorway. "Had to know what I was talking about?"

"Once an undercover ops agent, always an undercover ops agent." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

Sam crossed the room in a couple of strides, climbed onto the divan, and straddled G's buttocks. "One more half turn and you'd be in the perfect position for a good screwing."

"That's lewd."

"You're damned right." He laid lengthwise on his partner kissing and nuzzling his neck. "You smell ripe for the picking."

"That's even more lewd."

"I hope so, because I plan to make use of your sexy body later on tonight."

"You mean you want to make me into a gigantic s'more sandwich again?"

"That among other things."

"But?"

"You know what I'm gonna say, Hetty wants access to your computer."

G sighed. "Damn it, I don't know if I trust her or you with that information."

"Did someone burn you?" G nodded. "I promise I won't do that to you."

"But you can't promise that for Hetty."

"She won't—"

"Get off me, get the hell off me, man!" He twisted his torso trying to extricate himself from under Sam's prone body.

"Easy, man, easy, what triggered this off?"

"Trusting anyone with this intel, okay, can't do it, because I did and it nearly destroyed me."

"I'm not that woman—"

"But you're an agent, damn it."

Sam rolled off his partner and laid next to him on the divan. He pulled G into his arms. "A fellow agent betrayed your trust?"

Tears formed in the corners of his blue eyes. "Not just one."

"How many are we talking about?"

"I don't know, man, I only know about the ones in the video viewing room," he said. "And the ones who accompanied me on the operation."

"Video viewing room?" Sam asked. "I hope you explain this to me. How many total?"

"Ten."

"No wonder you're so anxious and on edge around me about this intel," Sam said. "This is beginning to make sense. What were they viewing?"

"I can't Sam, can't do this, can't tell you, don't trust you with this, don't trust Hetty with this, trust no one with this." Here he was again rattling off words as if his brain and mouth were an Uzi.

"You tried to get someone to help you and they failed you too?"

"Yeah, everyone failed me including that bitch of a girlfriend."

"I won't fail you, man, I promise." Sam rolled G over to face him. "Look me in the eyes, man, I won't fail you. I'll stand by your side until this is over."

"And then you'll dump me."

"What?" He cupped his partner's face in both hands. "Who said anything about dumping you?"

"That's what she did and you will too."

"Based on your past, you believe I'll betray you as she did."

"Why not?" He sighed. "Everyone did so why not you too?"

"Did she love you?" Sam leaned in closer until their faces were inches apart.

"Ah, no, I guess not, I mean I don't know."

"Well, there's why she did it."

"She didn't love me?"

"She didn't care about you." Sam planted a tender kiss on G's lips. "I love you."

G's mouth hung open.

"I won't betray you as the others in your life. Understand me?" He kissed him again. "I'm on your side and I'm not leaving your side. I love you."

"But you don't know what happened and when you find out you'll change your mind—"

Sam passionately kissed G while caressing his face and neck. "I won't change my mind." He kissed away the tears cascading down his partner's cheeks. "I love you."

G buried his face in his partner's chest. "Nobody ever loved me, like this," he said. "I heard these men laughing in the video viewing room. I snuck up on them to find out what the commotion was about. It was me, damn it, they were laughing at me as I was, crap, as I was being raped by that man."

"Raped?" Sam asked. "You told me that wasn't part of what—"

"I lied, man, okay, I had to lie, because it was too horrific and crap, those men betrayed me, and crap, that meant those men on my team betrayed me, and I couldn't handle one more man betraying me, violating my trust, I just couldn't do it." He was crying again.

Sam pressed his hand under G's sweatshirt and caressed the soft skin on his upper back. "I'm sorry, man, and I promise I won't betray you." He drew his partner closer to his chest.

G raised his head and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Operation Demyan was a joint operation between the CIA and the DEA in Costa Rica supposedly investigating this renegade ex-agent of the CIA's, who was hold up in the jungle," he said. "After viewing the video, I began to believe it was all a lie which they fed me, the CIA's and the DEA's propaganda to entice me to join their operation. And as you said before, I now believe this was something more sinister than that and I can't prove it yet. Believe me, I tried numerous times to gain access to the operation's files and even hacked into their computers. I know, highly illegal, but damn it, hell if I cared at that point. I knew something more happened than that video, yet I had no memory. Later, when I joined the FBI, I thought I got them on my side, but damned if they didn't betray me too. When they discovered the 'incident,' as they called it, involved a top secret, joint operation between the CIA and DEA, they flat out refused to investigate any further."

"Dropped it as if it were an operation gone wrong?"

"Yeah." He sighed and laid his head against Sam's chest again.

"I can understand why you don't trust." Sam stroked his back some more. "Do you remember the guy's name?"

"The renegade ex-agent?"

"Yeah."

"Twayne Gowan, I found it in the video which is on my computer."

"Now, I understand why you're reluctant to hand the computer over to Hetty and NCIS with all the intel on there."

"And how she'll use it against me."

"What?" Sam asked. "Hetty's not like those other people—"

"When given the chance she'll prove to be different."

"You'll see she can be trusted, you got this bad, man, and I'm sorry you were betrayed." Sam pushed G onto his back and straddled his hips pressing his hands under his partner's sweatshirt and running his fingers through the soft, golden hairs on his chest. "Man, I can't get enough of your sexy body. I got to have you soon."

"What, in the middle of my crisis?" He feigned a pout.

"Are you in a crisis, babe, or just feeling vulnerable?"

"The latter."

"Good, because I need you soon."

"Talk about a one track mind."

"Yep, I'm on your trail." Sam's left hand pinched and stroked G's nipples while his right hand traveled down the treasure trail to the top of G's sweats. "Damn, I better stop this before I have my way with you right here."

"That doesn't sound too bad." The left corner of his mouth turned upward.

"It would work out fine, except Hetty's waiting for us in the living room."

G's jaw dropped.

"Sorry, man."

"I wish you would've told me sooner."

"I can _feel_ why you're worried," Sam said. "Let's go take care of this in the bathroom."

"No, here and right now," G said. "Go close the door before I change my mind."

"She's two doors down from this room."

"Then be quiet about it and hurry up, I need you."

"Talk about a one track mind." Sam slid down onto G's body lengthwise and scooted backward pulling G's sweats with him.

"Navy SEAL maneuver?"

"Not anything they taught me." He climbed off the divan and closed and locked the door to the den. "Something I devised expressly for you," he said, returning to his lover's side. "Hetty wants access to your entire computer for twenty-four hours."

"I don't know if I can—"

"Hear me out, here's the deal, my deal for you," Sam said. "You give me full access to your body for twenty-four hours and Hetty gets full access to your computer during that time."

"To do what with me?"

"Anything I want."

"Makes me nervous, but I'll go with it." He imagined all the things Sam could do to him, most he would like and some he'd abhor because they might trigger him.

"Which makes you nervous?"

"Both, Hetty in possession of my computer and you in possession of my body." Hetty's possession of his computer was worse. Every piece of intel he had gathered about this man, Twayne Gowan, and the operation in Costa Rica was on his computer.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading.<p>

Trying to post a chapter a day. Everything is written. I am only doing a final edit of my chapters.


	7. Betrayal, Ch 6

Thanks for reading my story. Thanks for the reviews. I love reviews.

**Title: Rogue Agents**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Betrayal<strong>

**Chapter 6**

Upon turning over his laptop computer to Hetty, the simple act became the catalyst for memories to flood G's mind. Flashbacks of betrayal surfaced again. He hid in the master bedroom's closet. The memory surfaced about his former girlfriend and replayed in his mind again and again. It was as if the memory was happening right now. G felt the betrayal of her words cut through him as if she had used a sharp, serrated knife and sliced through every layer of skin and muscle nearly down to the bone. When he needed her most, she dumped him leaving his wounded body and mind for more vultures to attack and destroy. As the memories flooded him, G recoiled into himself scooting backwards, deeper into the closet and into the darker memories in his mind.

In a flash, he remembered his team members dragging his semi-conscious body out of the conference room and smashing him face first onto the carpet. Three men sat on him while the rest forcibly held his arms out spread eagle waiting for the psychiatrist to bring the medications over to him. To inject him. To subdue him. To make him forget what happened in Costa Rica. Yet he remembered every time the talks started in the conference room. It didn't matter how many times they attempted to drug away those memories, they emerged again and again, much to G Callen's horror.

Sam entered the closet and settled on the carpet close to G. "I'm here if you need to—"

"Don't touch me, damn it!"

"I'm not, man."

"Screw this… I need you and I need to be held, but I can't stand to be touched." He tightened his hold on his drawn up knees.

"What are you remembering?"

"Her and them."

"Them?"

"The, crap, my damned team members."

"At the DEA?"

"Yeah, damn it, screw this."

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine with me."

"Since when?"

"Since I talked to Nate again," Sam said. "He reminded me to back off."

"Yeah?"

"He said to not pressure you about what happened at the DEA and in Costa Rica."

"I like that man." G grinned and relaxed the tight grip on his drawn up knees. "I wish I could figure out why I keep seeing these two memories together."

"Maybe they reflect what happened in Costa Rica?"

"Crap! Now why did you have to say that?"

"Sorry, man."

"Sure you are, damn it, I hate this."

"Need a hug?"

G sighed. "Yeah, but I can't stomach a hug."

"The thought makes you ill?"

"Yeah, it's not you Sam, it's me."

"I wasn't worried about it being me," he said. "What's there not to love about me?"

"I ought to slug you, man." He half grinned.

"But?"

"I love you."

"I know."

"Damn." G snickered.

"I'll be lying on the bed for a while, if you want a hug or to talk."

"You're leaving me?"

"I'll be a few steps away in the bedroom."

He sighed. "Damn it, do you have to hug me?"

"Of course not, man, but if you want that I'm available."

"Crap, why couldn't it be easier than this?"

"Because you were betrayed by the people you trusted." G shuddered hearing those words, it was the truth and he hated it. Sam stood and offered his partner a hand. "I won't force physical contact with you." G grabbed Sam's hand and hoisted himself off the black, plush carpet.

"Why the change?" He released his hand.

"I told you, Nate had a long talk with me." Sam strode into the bedroom.

G followed him. "When?"

"Just before I came in here."

"Oh." Sam laid on the bed on his side waiting for his partner to make up his mind. "What did he say about our relationship?"

"The same thing Hetty said to me months ago when we—"

"Wait a minute!" G sat on the bed. "Months ago?" He turned to face him.

"Yeah, I approached her and asked her what she thought of the idea, knowing policy forbids relationships in the workplace."

"Crap, why didn't you stop this before we started?"

"Because," Sam said, lying on his back and placing his hands under his head, "she approved of it."

"What?" G's eyes widened.

"Yep, she said you needed a stable man in your life."

"Crap, she knows, why didn't you tell me?"

"Yeah, I played you, man, sorry, I should've told you."

"I fell for it." He laid down on the bed facing Sam. "I'm a sucker."

"A push over and a great lover."

"I am?"

"Yeah, the best," Sam said. "I love you."

G inched closer to his partner and snuggled into his side. "Promise me that you'll release me if I say to do it."

"I promise, man, it's no problem."

"Hold me, loosely, I can't handle it tight right now."

He wrapped his left arm around G's shoulders. "Like this?"

"Looser." Sam let his arm slide down to his partner's back. "Good." G sighed. "Damn these memories, I hate what they do to me. Hate it." He inched closer wanting to feel the warmth of Sam's flesh touching his own. "I lied about what happened at work on that horrific day when my former girlfriend kicked me out."

"As you once said to me, we all lie, some better than others."

"Was I convincing?" G asked stroking his partner's bare, dark brown chest where the parted bathrobe provided access.

"I believed you."

"I had to because I wasn't ready to tell you the truth."

"Completely acceptable."

"How come?"

"Nate."

"Man, I like him even more."

"Yep, he's all right."

G stared at his partner's bare chest and trailed his fingertips in circles on the soft skin. Tears flooded his eyes. "They did this horrible thing to me again and again." He sniffled back the tears. "After I returned from Costa Rica, we gathered in the conference room everyday and watched a video of the… damn it… my kidnapping."

Sam's jaw dropped open. "What the hell?"

"I know it sounds—"

"Sounds as if they attempted to mentally torture you."

"What?"

"Mind control and brainwash you."

"Is that what it's called?"

"It's called sick and disgusting," Sam said. "It makes me angry, no, beyond angry. Makes me want to torture them as they tortured you."

G shuddered.

"I'm not angry with you."

"I'm sorry, I should've told you before," he said. "Couldn't tell you the truth. Wasn't ready."

"It's okay, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?"

"Yeah, you told me you preferred it to babe."

"You don't have to say it if you—"

"You want it, and I want to give that to you," Sam said. "It's no problem."

Tears flowed down his cheeks splashing on Sam's bare skin. "There's more." He brushed the tears away from the outer corners of his eyes with the back of his left hand. "Several minutes into the video, I freaked out and ran from the room."

"Who wouldn't, man?" Sam resisted the urge to pull G close into his side to comfort him from the onslaught of the memory.

"Outside the conference room, my team members rushed over to my side and pushed me face first onto the carpet." G squeezed his eyes shut and shivered hard. "Several team members held me down while others held my left arm out so drugs could be administered to me." He opened his eyes and panted trying to pace himself as the memory intensified.

"What?" Sam's left eyebrow lifted high.

"The psychiatrist drugged me with two medicines and then several of my team members dragged me down to the infirmary."

"That's why you freaked out with the psychiatrist that Nate brought to the house."

"Yeah, sorry, I couldn't tell you."

"Understandable, man, I would've reacted the same way had I been through this crap as you had."

"That day I decided to escape from the infirmary," G said. "Normally, I stayed down there until the drugs wore off and I was calmed down. This time I couldn't do it. I was too triggered. What they did was too familiar. Just as you said, they were familiar, both the DEA and my former girlfriend's attitudes. I was on a collusion course with my past and they both accelerated the time frame. I needed to escape from them all."

"What really happened after your girlfriend dumped you?"

"I had a mental and emotional breakdown, " G said. "I never returned to the DEA. I resigned two months later."

"And your records reflect?"

"My resignation only without the details about why it occurred."

"Hetty should know about this."

"I can't tell her."

"I will."

"Crap." He buried his face in Sam's bathrobe.

"You've done nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart."

"Really?" He asked. "I lost it. I went bonkers for over a month."

"And who wouldn't?" Sam asked. "They tortured you with repeated memories of a heinous event."

"Tortured?"

"Yeah, man, that's torture."

"Why did they do that to me?"

"I suspect it's some type of mind control experiment."

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"Because it sounds as if that was their goal."

"Hetty agrees with that theory too?"

"Afraid so, man."

"Damn it," he said. "Now what?"

"You work on remembering what happened to you in Costa Rica."

"I don't know if I want to remember all that happened there."

"Why?"

"If seeing my kidnapping sent me into a tailspin," G said. "What will the memories of Costa Rica do to me?"

"I suspect you've guarded yourself against those memories for years."

"You got that right." G sighed. "More happened with her."

"Give me at least a first name."

"I'll make up one."

"No, tell me her first name."

"Crap…" He raised his head and glanced at Sam, then lowered it again, resting his chin on his partner's chest. "Samantha."

"Damn." He sighed. "Sorry."

"She discovered I moved to the West Coast and contacted me."

"What?" Sam's eyes widened.

"I couldn't believe it was her calling me," he said, remembering the day as if it happened this morning. It was another round of torture by a human being who he once trusted. "She called to invite me to her wedding."

"That's reprehensible!"

"Yeah, it was one of those moments where I almost lost it again." He released a long, noisy sigh. "I hung up on her halfway through her invitation."

"I would've too, sorry, G," Sam said, again wishing he could draw his partner closer into his side. He resisted the urge once more. "Did you keep her phone number on your cell phone?"

"It's on my computer, because I tossed that cell phone after that happened."

"Smart choice," Sam said. "But you remembered her phone number, didn't you?"

"Wish I could forget she ever existed."

"Give it to me."

"What? Why?"

"When did she call you?"

"The beginning of this year."

"She was newly engaged to be married?"

"Yeah, how did you guess?"

"Just a hunch," Sam said. "When?"

"Damn," G said. "This month."

"And that, I guarantee you, is what set you off."

"What?" His eyes widened.

"Caused your memories to emerge again for the first time in years."

"Yeah, it did, just knowing her marriage was coming up soon."

"Time for some payback and payback is a bitch."

"610-555-0574."

Sam reached over to the nightstand and grabbed his cell phone. "When I'm through with her, she'll wish she'd never met you." He dialed the number and waited for the voice mail to pick up. "From one Sam to another, I hope for your sake that your new husband doesn't go through an emotional or mental crisis. However, if he does I hope you suffer two fold for screwing over G Callen. You deserve to receive whatever happens in your marriage." Sam disconnected and grinned wide.

"I can't believe you said that." G chuckled.

"She deserves that and more."

"No one ever protected me like that, thanks."

"And you deserve protection, sweetheart." Sam kissed G's head. "I wish I had been there."

"I don't know if I could've handled two Sams at one time." G raised his head. The left side of his mouth turned upward. "Make love to me."

"You sure?"

"I need some dark chocolate."

"I could use a marshmallow wrapped around my dark chocolate bar."

"That's lewd."

"Yep." Sam leaned down and tenderly kissed his lover on the lips.

G climbed on top of his lover and laid on him lengthwise. He wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and pulled himself closer to him. "I need you."

Sam rolled his lover onto his back and kneeled between his legs, pushing them apart. G froze, staring into space and unable to even glance at Sam. "You with me, man?" He asked him.

"Get the hell off me!" He shrieked and rolled to his left side.

Sam leaped off the bed and backed away from his lover giving him a wide berth.

"Oh crap." G sat on the bedside and stared at the floor between them. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, sweetheart, I remembered what you said about being touched and got out of your way."

"I hate this," he said, "I wanted, no, needed you to make love to me."

"Part of you doesn't need or want that."

"I wish that part would take a vacation."

"That's an interesting way to put it." Sam settled on the bed next to G. "I'm not worried about your ability to make s'more sandwiches with me. When you're ready, I'm here for you, and until then don't sweat it, sweetheart. Can I put my arm around your shoulders?"

"Yeah and cuddle me."

Sam drew G into his side. "I love you."

"Not so tight, damn this." He buried his face in Sam's chest, tears again flooding his eyes.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>They sat across from one another at the dining room table eating a grilled salmon dinner.<p>

"You know eventually you'll need to go shopping for food," G said.

"Nope."

"Why?"

"It's delivered each week and at a prearranged, specified hour."

"Now there's laziness."

"Yep, a complete waste of my time to go shopping," Sam said. "Now if you and I did it together, I might consider doing it again."

"Again?"

"Was a favorite pastime before I started to work at NCIS," he said. "My wife and I enjoyed shopping together."

"I heard it can be a sensuous experience when you've got a partner." G winked at him.

"Someone's feeling ready to make love again."

"I love making love to you, and I love when you make love to me."

"It was a good time after you finally relaxed."

"Yeah, I'm uptight."

"Was."

G sunk down in his chair again and brushed his foot across Sam's crotch. Sam grabbed G's foot with one hand and massaged it with the other one. "You'd better cut that out."

"I know why too."

Damn. G panted holding back his sexual desire, having his feet touched was as if someone had slipped him a powerful aphrodisiac.

"Let it go, man, embrace your need."

"Tease."

"Who's the tease, man, brushing my crotch while we're eating?"

"I just can't get enough of you," he said. "I want to go grocery shopping with you."

"I like the sound of that," Sam said," but do you think we'd get out of the store without making love in one of the aisles?"

"No." He closed his eyes and relaxed into his partner's foot massage. "Fruit or vegetables?"

"Meat would be more appropriate don't you think?"

He sighed.

"I guess that is an affirmative." Sam leaned over and sucked and licked G's big toe.

"Not fair!"

"Quite fair." He licked between each toe.

"Damn, you're a good tease." G winked at him.

"I excel at it." Sam released his lover's foot and allowed it to rest on his crotch. "Feel that?"

"I do." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

"I'm ready for round two," he said. "And you?"

G moved his foot to the floor and straightened in his chair. He stared at his now empty plate. "Dessert?"

"S'mores?"

"No, real dessert, man, I'm still hungry."

"You uptight again?"

"Yeah, sorry Sam, damn it."

"Don't sweat it, man, right now it's hit and miss." He stood and grabbed their plates.

"More miss than hit," G said. "And I'm serious, I want to go grocery shopping with you."

"And I'm looking forward to it, sweetheart." Sam licked his lips and winked at his partner.

G followed him into the burgundy and mauve tiled kitchen and closed the gap between them, leaning against the sink and facing his partner. Sam set their plates on the countertop and stepped in front of his lover.

"What would you like for dessert?"

"What I really want is you, but I'll settle for some Dark Chocolate Silk Cream Pie."

"Talk about a tease." Sam kissed him lightly on the lips. "Dark Chocolate Silk Cream Pie it is then."

G wrapped his arms around Sam's waist and drew his lover into him. "I wish…"

"Me too, but there's no pressure, sweetheart." Sam kissed him again. "Pie sounds good for now."

He released him and stared over his shoulder. G sucked on his lower lip and released it. "Crap, this sucks."

"Yep," he said, lifting his partner's chin and gazing into his glistening blue eyes. "Memory?"

"Yeah, flashbacks, the dining room does that to me."

"I wonder what triggers you."

"Me too, but I don't have a damned clue."

Sam opened the refrigerator. "Where do you want to eat dessert?" He asked, placing the pie on the countertop.

"The dining room," G said, "I want to learn what triggers me."

"You don't have to do this." He dished out two slices of pie.

"I need to learn what it is." G grabbed the two plates while Sam put away the pie and got two forks. He strode toward the swinging kitchen door and back into the dining room. Halfway through the door, he flashed back to a time in Costa Rica. A slab of wood raised up on two huge tree trunks. The wood was polished to a mirror finish. G remembered when he flashed on seeing it for the first time. The surface reflected his face and then his—

With his quick reflexes, Sam grabbed the pie laden plates before they were smashed to pieces on the floor.

G shrieked and cringed, falling to the hardwood floor. His body convulsed and jerked wildly as a seizure-like episode took over his body.

After tossing the plates on the table, Sam crouched next to G's writhing and convulsing body and stroked his face to calm him. "Sweetheart, you're safe." He watched the seizure-like movements subside less than five minutes later. "You okay?"

G gazed up into Sam's eyes. "How did I end up on the floor? Where's the pie and the plates? Where's the—"

"Slow down, man, everything is fine, " he said. "It's you I'm worried about. You okay?"

"I had a flashback."

"Costa Rica?"

"I think so, yeah."

Sam straightened and offered G his hand. He reached down with his left hand too to help G off the floor. "Come over here." Sam settled him into a chair and sat next to him. "I say we eat pie in the den."

"No, I need to know what I saw, why it triggered me, and what happened."

"I'll tell you what happened, man, you had a seizure of some type."

"What?" His eyes widened.

"Yeah."

"Damn it, I saw, crap, this slab of wood."

"Go on."

"It filled an entire room and sat on two huge tree trunks—crap, oh crap." G covered his mouth, leaped to his feet, and rushed into the guest bathroom. He hurled into the toilet bowl three times before sinking to the brown and white tile floor beside the toilet.

While eyeing his partner, Sam removed a washcloth from the hall linen closet. He wet it with warm water at the sink still keeping his eyes on his partner. Sam settled on the tile floor next to G and handed him the warm, wet washcloth.

He brought the warm, wet washcloth up to his face and held it in place, soaking in the warmth. "Damn it, there goes that wonderful salmon dinner you fixed for me."

Sam wrapped his arm around G's shoulders and drew him into his side. "I'm not upset over that," he said. "I'm worried about you." G leaned into him resting his head on his partner's chest. "There's no pressure to share what happened."

"I know and it just came out of me the moment I entered the dining room," he said. "I didn't expect it to happen and I—" He jerked away and leaned over the toilet bowl. He hurled again, shuddering afterward. "Damn it." G rested his left cheek on the cool, chocolate brown, porcelain toilet.

"Hard to stomach."

"What?" He asked, raising his head and glancing over his shoulder.

"Whatever you're remembering is difficult to stomach."

"Yes, it is." He leaned against Sam's torso and relaxed. "Scares me."

"I'm here, sweetheart, whatever happened to you can't hurt you again."

"That's true, but it sure feels like crap."

"Let's go snuggle in the den."

"And eat Dark Chocolate Silk Cream Pie?"

"If you're up to it." Sam drew G closer to him and planted a trail of kisses down the back of his neck.

He shivered. "You preparing me for a s'more sandwich?"

"Nope, enjoying your sexy body."

"Imbibing?"

"Yep." Sam helped G off the bathroom floor, took his hand, and guided him into the den. He settled his lover on the divan and wrapped a soft blanket around him. "Be back." A two minutes later, he returned with their desserts. "Maybe you like dessert more than dinner."

"Nope, both, you're a great cook and baker." G snuggled up to Sam and lifted a plate off the coffee table. He took a bite of pie. "Good."

"Better be."

"Why?"

"It's homemade."

"I didn't realize your wide range of talent in the kitchen."

"You know now." Sam took a bite and savored it. "I learned from my grandmother, who won several awards for baking."

"I never knew you came from such an illustrious line of top bakers." He smirked.

"Watch it."

"Or you'll?"

"I'll figure something to do with you."

"Rip me a new one?"

"I'll leave that up to Hetty." Sam cracked a wry grin.

"Damn, I'd rather you did it."

"You sure about that?"

"Absolutely." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

"Feeling better I see."

"Yeah, that dining room triggers me."

"My table?"

"Yeah."

"I could change it—"

"No, man, don't." G set his plate on the glass-topped coffee table. "I'll get over it someday. For now, I'll have to deal with it triggering me. Can we watch a movie? I need a distraction."

"I'm not a big enough one for you?" Sam faked a pout.

"I need a different picture in my head." He tried to push the image of the huge slab of wood from his mind. The more he forced it from his mind the stronger and more vivid the image became.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading my story. Thanks for the reviews. I love them.<p> 


	8. Purple Heart, Ch 7

Thanks for the reviews everyone. I love reviews! Thanks for reading my story.

**Title: Rogue Agents**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Purple Heart<strong>

**Chapter 7**

G swam to full consciousness from a nightmarish sleep, thrashing, shrieking, and frantically pawing and scratching his body. Sam's eyes flew open and with lightning reflexes, he rolled on top of his lover's supine body attempting to quell his frantic and flailing arms and legs. "Easy, G, easy," he cooed in his partner's left ear as he caressed his right cheek.

"Get the hell off me!"

"Can't do that."

"Why, damn it?"

"You had another terrifying nightmare."

G sucked on his lower lip. "Damn it," he said. "What was I doing? Was it worse than the last time?"

"Yep."

"Crap."

"Thrashing, shrieking, pawing, and scratching yourself."

"Oh hell," he said. "Get off me, damn it, I need you to—crap—" He squeezed his eyes shut, pushing the images from his vision and stopping their further emergence. "You need to get off me, man, hurry up and get off me, damn it."

Sam rolled off his partner and onto his back pulling G with him. "How's this?"

G sighed and opened his eyes. "Better."

He released his arms from his partner's back.

"No, oh crap, I need, don't you dare say anything to me about this, I need you to hold me tight."

"I won't." Sam wrapped his arm's around G's waist and held him tight.

"Tighter, damn it, you need to—crap—don't let it, get it off me, damn it, I'm freaking out, man, get it off me!" He squeezed his eyes shut again. "Help me!" He raised both hands to his face and started to claw at it.

Sam grabbed G's wrists and held his hands away from his face. "What the hell are you—"

"Bastard, release me, damn it."

"Not when you're trying to claw the skin off your face."

"What?" His eyes widened. "I wasn't—"

"You were, man."

"Crap."

"Mind telling what this is all about?"

"I… it felt as if something was on me."

"Such as?"

"No more questions and you said you wouldn't ask me questions, remember?"

"Yeah, I did." Sam released his hands and grabbed his cell phone off the nightstand.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling with an update."

"A what?"

"An update on your condition."

"Since when have you called anyone?"

"After the first time you had a nightmare."

"And the second one?"

"Yep, and the third and fourth ones."

"Crap."

"But this time it's different," Sam said. "You attempted to hurt yourself. I think you need medical intervention."

"Screw you, man!" G grabbed the phone from his hands and threw it on the floor.

"That's gonna cost you, man."

"Cost me?"

"Yeah, this time I'll call Hetty too." He rolled G off his body, climbed out of bed, and retrieved his phone.

"You'd better not call her," he said. "Where's my damned laptop computer?"

"There's been a slight delay with its return."

G's jaw dropped. "You promised me and I expect you to keep your—"

"Stuff it, man, and take it up with Hetty, not me, I'm not the one keeping it, she is." He autodialed Nate's number and then conferenced it with Hetty's number. "Here, talk to her."

"What?" He took the phone from his partner's hand and held it up to his ear. "I want my computer back. You promised me—"

"Mr. Callen, I need your computer and the intel on it for our investigation."

"We had an agreement and you—"

"As of today, our agreement is null and void."

"Fuck you!" He tossed the phone on the floor again.

"G, what the hell was that about?"

"Screw her and screw you too!"

Sam grabbed the phone off the carpet. "Hetty, I'm sorry I didn't expect that from him."

"Not a problem," she said, "under the circumstances I need to have Eric scrutinize the hard drive's contents further. I suppose now he'd be reluctant to give us the encryption codes for any more files."

"You got that right," he said. "This was his fifth nightmare and the most violent of them all." When he saw the mien on G's face, Sam stepped backward creating more distance between them. "I've got a situation here I need to take care of. Nate, I'll need you here ASAP and you know what I need. That's all I'm saying." He shut off his phone.

"You conferenced that call?" He asked. "Bastard, I'll kill you, I'll damned well kill you."

Sam sighed. "I told you I was conferencing the call," he said. "I can't believe you told her to fuck off."

"That's my property, it's my personal computer, she has no right to—"

"She most certainly has a right to confiscate it if the information pertains to this ops."

"There's no fucking ops!"

"What's with the language?" G rolled over in bed and faced the opposite wall. Sam sat on the bed, set his phone on the nightstand. He turned over and cuddled up to his lover. "Talk to me, man, what's going on with you?" He heard him softly crying. "Sorry, G." Sam stroked his shoulders.

"I want it back, damn it, this isn't fair, you promised, she promised."

"She has her reasons."

"They suck."

"What's on there that you don't want her to know about?"

"Now you're siding with her again?"

"No, I want to know what's got you so riled up over your computer." G jerked away from his partner, climbed off the bed, and huddled in the farthest corner of the room. Sam followed him and sat next to his lover. "Come on, man, Hetty and Nate will be here soon and you and I are sitting here naked on the—"

He curled tighter into himself drawing his knees up to his chest. "I don't give a crap." Sam wrapped his arm around his partner's shoulders. "Get your damned hands off me," he said pulling away as tears streamed down his face.

"At least let me place a bathrobe around your shoulders."

"No!"

"What's on that computer, man, and why won't Hetty give it back to you?"

He buried his face between his knees. "Everything, damn it, I, enough, no more, I'm not saying anything more." G tightened his grip around his knees drawing into himself and pushing away any contact with his partner.

Sam stood and grabbed a bathrobe off the chest of drawers and wrapped it around himself and took the second one and draped it over his partner's shoulders. G shrugged it off. "Come on, man, you're naked and—"

"And I told you, I don't give a crap."

"I heard the front door open and close," he said. "One last chance—"

"Go screw yourself!"

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>Nate and the psych tech entered the bedroom after Sam exited it. Nate crouched down next to G, resting his back against the wall. "Hey, Callen."<p>

"Don't you dare touch me."

"Not a problem for now."

"No, ever, damn it." G shuddered.

"We'll see."

"Screw it, you're not touching me, man, so you'd better damned well forget it, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," Nate said, sliding down the wall to rest his buttocks on his heels. "How did you sleep last night?"

"You know, you know everything," G said. "No reason I need to tell you a thing."

"Let's start from the beginning."

"You mean the part where you entered the bedroom?" G asked. "I'd like that. Just stay out this time."

Nate sighed and rubbed his partially bearded chin with his left hand. "I came in here to give you medication for sleep."

"Great, now you want to drug me."

"Callen, I'm trying to help you."

"I'm not gonna sleep in that damned bed again."

"Why?"

"Scares me."

"What scares you, Callen?"

He sighed. "The nightmares."

"The medicine will help you sleep and lessen your nightmares."

"Both?"

"Yeah."

He sighed. "Maybe it's a good idea," he said, "But I, crap, trust is a problem. I don't want you to touch me."

"That could be a problem," Nate said. "Maybe Sam could do it."

"Okay." He didn't look forward to anyone touching him right now including Sam.

"Good." Nate opened the door and motioned Sam into the bedroom. "You need to give him the medicine."

"G." Sam warned his partner of his presence as he sat on the carpet next to him. He took the syringe from Nate. "Ready?"

"On three?"

"Yeah, you count."

"One… two… three—ouch." He flinched.

"Ouch?" Sam chuckled. "I didn't even give it to you."

"Why? I was all ready for it."

"I changed my mind, I'm counting," he said. "One… two… three… stick." Sam injected the medicine. "Ouch?"

"It didn't hurt."

"That's a first." He capped the needle and handed the syringe back to Nate. "How about a bathrobe?"

"Only if I can speak with Hetty."

"If you're ulterior motive is to get your computer back, you can forget it."

"Damn." He swiped his tongue across his lower lip.

"Bathrobe?"

"I'll go see her naked." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

"You sure you want to do that?"

"It's the shock factor which I could use to persuade her to give it back to me."

"Come on, G, you've got to be joking, that's not a smooth move to pull on her."

"And why not?"

Sam sighed, stood, and offered his partner a hand. "It'll go over with her as an ops gone wrong."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He grabbed Sam's hand and hoisted himself off the carpet. "Sorry I freaked out on you."

"If you want to negotiate with Hetty you'd better do it soon," he said. "In about twenty minutes, those medications will make it impossible to speak more than three coherent words."

"Medications?" G asked. "What the hell did you give me, Nate?"

"A sedative and a tranquilizer."

"If I would've known I would've refused them both."

Sam lifted the bathrobe off the floor and held it up for G.

"Okay, I get the point." He wrapped it around himself and tied the sash. "Happy now?"

"Very." He took his partner's hand and lead him toward the den.

"You know I can walk on my own."

"For now yes, but in a short time, no," Sam said. "Hetty, we're in the den." He settled G on the divan and wrapped a blanket around him.

"I'm not cold."

"I'm hiding your sexy body." He winked at him and sat down next to his partner.

G snuggled into Sam's side wanting to be close now that the medicines were taking over his defenses.

"Mind if I wrap my arm around your shoulders?" He asked.

"I'd love it right now." Hetty ambled into the den. G involuntarily cringed.

"Mr. Callen, I could use your help with those encrypted files on your computer," she said, sitting on a chair to his right.

"I, damn, it's my computer, _my_ _personal_ _computer_," G said. "I don't know if I want to share anything more with you or Eric or anyone else for that matter."

"I'm well aware of the situation," she said. "I would like access to all files on your computer."

"I wish I could, but I can't do that."

"Come on, what's the problem giving her the information?" Sam asked.

He didn't trust anyone with those files. Every folder and the files within them contained details about what happened to him. Files whose content he ripped off from sources he should not have accessed. "They're my personal files."

"And they have nothing to do with this ops?" Hetty asked.

"Where's the ops, damn it, I don't know what you're talking about?"

"Easy, G, calm down."

"Well, I'm damned tired of this crap," he said. "There's no ops."

Hetty sighed. "Mr. Callen, the ops is the Ghost."

"He's gone and you can't find him," G said. "That's with him tracked as if he was most wanted criminal on earth."

"It is still the ops," she said. "I want the files for my investigation into the incidents at the DEA."

_Damn, and damn those incidents. _If they had only been incidents, he would not be this screwed up over them.

"Come on, G, just give her the encryption codes."

_I wish they were only incidents. _"It's not that simple."

"Why isn't it, Mr. Callen?"

"It isn't a simple encryption code for each of those files."

"Here, talk to Eric." She dialed her Tech Operator's phone number, set it on speakerphone, and placed her cell phone on the coffee table.

G sighed. "If I do this I get to go out and do something," he said. "I'm gonna go stir crazy being here all the time."

"After I remove your stitches, I'll take you shopping," Sam said.

"I guess, anything to get out of the house even for an afternoon."

"Hate me that much?"

"If I hated you, Sam, I wouldn't want to go shopping with you." He winked at him. "Okay, Eric, this is serious encryption."

"I can handle serious encryption," Eric said. "Give it to me."

"Can't do it over the phone," G said. "You'll need my code book."

"Your what?"

"Code book."

"You're serious?"

"Very," he said. "It's 448-bit Blowfish encryption."

"Crap."

"Mr. Beale?" Hetty asked, picking up the cell phone and switching it off of speakerphone. "You can do this, right?"

"Now I know why I couldn't decrypt those files, makes perfect sense," he said. "That code can't be cracked with a single computer. I'd need banks and banks of super computers working full-time for—"

"Mr. Beale, can you do it with the code book?"

"Sorry, Hetty, yes."

"Good, I'll get you that book." She shut off her phone and turned to her agent. "Why on earth would you need this type of encryption on your files? What have you got to hide on that computer?"

_I knew it was coming to this. Damn it._ "Crap, illegal files."

"Illegal files?"

"I hacked into the DEA's computers and made copies of any files pertaining to me."

"And you expect me to protect—"

"I don't expect anything," G said. "I knew what I was doing was illegal. That's why I protected the files on _my_ _personal__computer_." He drew the blanket tighter around his body. Now he _was_ cold.

"What type of files are we talking about, Mr. Callen?"

_Hell._ "Videos of my team members enticing me to freak out while we watched videos of my kidnapping by that quintessential creep."

Hetty's jaw dropped. "Mr. Callen, I'm sorry any of this happened." She leaned forward. "I understand why you copied those files."

"I know what you're gonna say next," he said. "You can't protect me."

"On the contrary, in this situation I can and I will protect you," she said. "You have my complete support."

G's eyes widened.

"Where is the code book?"

"In my house," he said, "under the mattress at the foot of the bed facing the closet."

"A mattress?" She asked.

"Yes, Hetty, I actually bought myself a bed and a bed frame." It was in one of his disconnected moments that he decided a bed was necessary. He needed to make his house more a home. Another reason he bought the bed was to someday sleep with Sam in that bed. Maybe now that was possible. Maybe. At least he could hope his partner would want to sleep with him at his house and in his bed.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>"What about some fruit?" G asked while pushing the shopping cart down the condiments aisle with Sam by his side.<p>

"Fruit?" He asked. "Is that the subtle hint you want something from me?"

"If I wanted something I'd take it, not subtly hint I wanted it." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

"You're getting bold."

"Getting?"

Sam stopped pushing his side of the cart and drew G into his side. "We could always use the men's room."

"I don't need privacy, I just need your warm, nude body against mine."

"Right here in the condiments aisle then."

"I'm not serious." He pulled away. "I was joking around and—"

Sam drew him back into his side and slid his hand inside the back of his lover's pants. "Well, I _am_ serious." Sam squeezed one of G's butt cheeks. G gasped. "Glad you couldn't find your belt this morning."

"I think you took it and hid it," he said panting and wanting where this was going.

"Glad you want to be touched."

"Damn, please do something more than this."

"Meet me in the private handicap bathroom in three minutes," he said. "And we'll take this to the next level."

"Where is it?"

"Look to your left, down that hallway, second door on the right, knock twice." Sam squeezed G's other butt cheek and removed his hand. "Damn, can't wait to pluck your cherry," he said, lowering his voice.

"You got that already." G winked at him.

Sam grinned wide. He strode toward the bathrooms. He waited in the handicap men's room for three minutes. No knocks on the door. He removed his cell phone and dialed G's number. After ten rings he shut off his phone and exited the bathroom. Sam strode toward the condiments aisle and found their shopping cart. No G in sight. "Damn him!" He autodialed Hetty.

"I've got a serious situation here, G's gone."

"What?" she asked. "When?"

"We were at the grocery store," he said. "He's been gone about five minutes."

"Where do believe he went?"

"My first guess is the airport." _Mr. Houdini had done it again. Made his great escape._

"I'll have Eric track him ASAP."

"I won't move until I hear from him," Sam said, shutting off his phone and heading toward the exit. "What the hell are you thinking, G?" He asked out loud when he climbed into his black metallic Challenger. His cell phone vibrated. "Got anything?"

"It's Eric, you're right, Callen's on his way to the airport," he said. "He booked a flight on the way, round trip to Costa Rica."

"Damn him, I'm on my way."

"I sent his itinerary to your cell phone and booked you a ticket on the same flight just in case."

"It leaves when?"

"Two hours."

"And he plans to hide out at the airport for two hours," Sam said aloud again. "This doesn't make sense."

"I'll keep you apprised of his whereabouts with updates on your cell phone."

"Thanks Eric." He shut off his phone and revved the engine on his Challenger. "Time to confront G and this isn't gonna be pleasant," he said aloud again.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>Sam arrived at the airport and strode toward the check-in area. With no luggage this would go fast, well except for checking in his ID and his gun. G hadn't carried his weapon, Sam remembered that because he had slid his hand into his lover's pants. After checking in, he quickened his pace toward the check-in at the gate. Still one hour until the plane departed. Where was G? Upon turning a corner, Sam saw the departure gate and the check-in desk. G stood by a window. It was hard to be angry with him now that he saw his lover. What he wanted most was to take him to a hotel and have his way with him. He sighed and stopped by the drinking fountains ogling his partner from a distance. Sam crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. Damn. G's body was alluring in his faded blue jeans and a clingy, long-sleeved, ocean blue t-shirt. Sam loved the t-shirt, because it brought out the color of his lover's sapphire blue eyes and at the same time accentuated G's sexy physique. <em>I need to keep my mind off the merchandize and place it back on the situation at hand. Man, his body is delectable in every way. <em>He wanted to only do one thing, draw G into his arms, and find a place to make love to him. _Get your mind out of your pants, Sam, he berated himself._

He strode toward the window where his partner stood staring at the arriving and departing planes. "Where do you think you're going?"

G startled, flipped on his heels and faced Sam. "Damn it, Eric, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "How far in advance did you plan this stunt?"

Several lines creased his forehead. "This morning."

"Spur of the moment then?"

"Yeah, and you're not stopping me."

"Really now, what makes you believe I'm allowing you to step onboard that flight to Costa Rica?"

"It's only you stopping me."

"And you believe you can win a wrestling match with me?"

"Who said anything about a wrestling match?" He glanced at him sideways.

"I did." Sam inched closer to G. He stopped less than a foot from him. "I'm gonna wrestle you into my arms, drag you into the nearest private handicap restroom, and screw you until you can't talk or walk straight," he said in his sexiest tone.

G swiped his tongue along his lower lip. "Damn it, you're not playing fair."

"Nope, I'm gonna do whatever it takes to keep you here."

"I need to do this, damn it, I need to find this bastard."

"This isn't a good idea," Sam said. "Those stitches weren't ready to come out of your thigh. You're going through sheer hell with those nightmares every night. That's two strikes against you. And besides you've got no weapon."

"I'll buy one there."

"Bad idea, G, you'll get yourself arrested and thrown into one of their not-so-wonderful, notorious, Costa Rican prisons."

"It would be a darn sight better than how I was treated by that bastard."

"You sure about that?"

"Positive."

Sam closed the gap between them surrounding G's waist with both arms. "What do you say we shack up in a five star hotel and smooch?"

"Only smooch?"

"So you are interested in what I have to offer."

"Yeah, I guess if you make it worth my while."

"I tried to make it worth your while in the grocery store," Sam said. "But you decided to go Costa Rica on me."

G gazed into Sam's eyes. "Why do you have to be this enticing?" He sighed. "I want to leave, but damn it, I want you too."

"Can't have both."

He laid his head on Sam's chest. "Damn it, take me home, I guess."

"Home or a five star hotel?"

"You really mean it?"

"Yeah."

"Even after I snuck off to go to Costa Rica?"

"Yeah, I'm a sucker for sexy men in clingy, ocean blue t-shirts."

"You've been ogling me."

"Yep, you're an enticing man for a horny man who needs a puffed, white marshmallow."

G felt the heat rise from his chest to his face. "Damn."

"That color looks awesome on you, but it will look better when I get you between two, soft white sheets," Sam said in his sexiest and lowest tone. He leaned down and planted a soft kiss on G's mouth. "Let's go before I find a place in LAX or have to make love to you in the Challenger on the way to the hotel."

They strode toward the parking lot hand in hand. Before they climbed into the Challenger, Sam pushed his lover against the car, cupped his face in both hands, and tenderly kissed him on the mouth.

G gasped.

"I see I still have that affect on you."

"Yeah, you make my knees weak and my heart throb."

Sam opened the passenger door for his lover and stole another kiss. "Can't get enough of you."

G settled down in the passenger seat and started to buckle his seatbelt.

"No, you don't, that's my job." He leaned over and buckled his partner's seatbelt and kissed him again. "I can't wait to get you between the sheets."

"Talk about a one track mind."

Sam closed the door and climbed into the driver's side. "Yep, set on one thing, you." He grasped G's left hand and stroked it.

"I thought you'd be angry with me."

"It started out that way," he said. "But after ogling your sexy physique I stopped being angry." He lifted his lover's hand and kissed it.

"Sorry, I lost it again and almost did something really stupid."

"No, really stupid was chasing after the Ghost," Sam said. He revved the engine. "You almost got yourself killed."

"Yeah, it was stupid."

"This was a reckless escapade, and you're forgiven as always."

"I'm surprised you'd trust me after this."

"Who says I do?" Sam winked at him. "Do me a favor and call Shutters On The Beach in Santa Monica and confirm our reservation."

G's jaw dropped. "Isn't that hotel expensive?"

"Consider it our first fling and your official first outing after the accident."

"And grocery shopping?"

"We'll do that on the way home tomorrow afternoon."

G scrolled through the online search engine on his cell phone for the hotel. He dialed the number and confirmed their reservation for a room with an ocean view. "I hope you don't mind me switching it to a room with an ocean view."

"Such the romantic, I love that about you," Sam said. "Never thought a man with the undercover expertise as you could be the consummate romantic." He grasped G's hand again and kissed it. "I love you."

He sighed. "After all I put you through you still love me."

"Yeah, I'm a push over." Sam stopped at the ticket gate, paid, and exited the parking garage. "Hungry?"

"I opt for room service at the hotel, my treat."

"There you go again being the romantic."

G stroked Sam's thigh. "Do you really still love me?" He asked gazing up into Sam's eyes.

"Are you testing me again?"

"Not trying to, damn it, I hate what I do to you," he said. "I need to see that creep and confront him."

"And we'll do that when you're not compromised by your injuries, your nightmares, and the memories of what he did to you," Sam said. "We need the upper hand for someone as cunning as Twayne Gowan. I promise there will be a time and a place to confront him."

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>"I know this is an odd time to tell you this," G said, wrapping his arms around Sam's waist and snuggling closer to him under the soft, white, Egyptian cotton sheets. "I now know why your dining room table triggers me. It's Purple Heart wood, right?"<p>

"Yeah, how did you—

"That's what I keep seeing in my repeating nightmare, a huge slab of Purple Heart wood."

"I can—"

G covered Sam's lips with his mouth and softly kissed him. "Don't."

"I want to make—"

"No, you're not changing it because one of these days I won't get triggered by it," he said. "And I do love that table of yours. I want to use it for more than eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

"Maybe we can shop for some TV trays and eat in the den until you feel safe in the dining room," Sam said.

"I'd like that."

"You know what I'd like right now?"

"Another s'more sandwich?" G asked.

"Nope, I need real sustenance, let's order dinner and eat out on the deck."

"I hope in our bathrobes."

"Good idea, G, unless you want people on the beach ogling your sexy body," Sam said. "After dinner I want more of the same, you."

"And during dinner?"

"I'll ogle what I can see of your sexy body," he said. "Do me a favor and put on your t-shirt."

"Why?"

"Don't ask questions, G."

He climbed off the feather topped bed and grabbed his ocean blue t-shirt and put it on.

"Stand right there." Sam sat up in bed and leaned against the cream colored, padded leather headrest. "Damn, you're one hot, sexy man. Now come over here I want to make love to you again." G plodded over to his lover's side of the bed and waited. Sam wrapped his arms around his partner's waist and dragged him onto the bed. "Now we're talking." He rolled his lover onto his back and laid on him lengthwise. "I need to buy you at least a dozen of this color and style t-shirt. I want to see you wear this to work everyday."

"I thought you wanted to order room service."

He kissed, licked, and sucked on G's neck. "I have all the room service I could ever want or need right here."

"You know if I wore this t-shirt to work everyday we'd never get any work done."

"Forget that, sweetheart, we'd never arrive at work."

G wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and pulled him down into a kiss. "I'd like that." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>Sam laid on top of his lover, held him down, and placed his hand over his mouth. "Easy, man, you need to calm down." G opened his eyes and stared at his partner's cocoa brown eyes. Sam released his hand. "We good?"<p>

"Why are you laying on top of me?"

"You had one of your infamous nightmares."

"Crap."

"You okay?"

"Hold me, I need you to hold me tight." Tears welled up in his blue eyes. "Are we still at the hotel?"

"You don't remember?"

"Damn it, the nightmare was too real."

Sam stroked G's cheek. "Yeah, it's the middle of the night, that's why I covered your mouth."

"I started to scream?"

"Yeah."

_Damn it, I'd wish I stop screaming in these nightmares._ "What else did I do?"

"The usual, thrashing and kicking."

"Crap," G said. "I don't know why, but I dreamt about your dining room table. I dreamt about walking into the room and seeing it. I saw my reflection in it and started screaming."

"Seeing your reflection caused you to scream?"

"Yeah, that's weird isn't it?"

"Yeah, I wonder why seeing yourself would cause that reaction."

"The same thing happened when I dreamt about that huge slab of wood in Costa Rica."

"Maybe you're seeing him doing something to you," Sam said. "You see both of your reflections in the wood."

G squeezed his eyes shut and panted, trying to push away the images coming into his mind. "Damn it, that's part of it," he said. "That's why I freaked out that one time with you."

"I remember."

"When you flipped me onto my stomach the first thing I saw was my reflection and I lost it, I completely lost it," he said. "What made you say that?"

"I thought about the time you got triggered in the dining room."

"Damn, this is too familiar, and that means it happened," G said. "At least, that's what Nate has taught me. Sometimes I hate this part of the memory process. It freaks me out too much. Can you hold me tighter and closer to you?"

Sam wrestled his lover under the covers pulling them tight around the two of them. He rolled onto his side drawing G snug against his chest. "We good?"

He sighed, relaxed, and inched backward until he felt his lover's heart beating on his back. That is the moment he felt connected to Sam. "Perfect." Now, if he could figure out why seeing his reflection in the Purple Heart wood caused him to feel sheer terror he would actually be doing better. In Sam's way of thinking, he'd be good.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading my story.<p> 


	9. Ghosts & Spooks, Ch 8

****Thanks for the great reviews. I love reading them.

**Title: Rogue Agents**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Ghosts &amp; Spooks<strong>

**Chapter 8**

"Hey, sleepy head, time to get up." G moaned and rolled over and faced the deck overlooking the ocean. Sam snuggled up behind him bringing his lover back against him. "Check out time is coming soon."

He groaned and stretched. "Too soon."

"We need to get dressed and—"

"No, I can't." G grabbed his pillow and covered his head.

"Can't, why?"

"Another stupid nightmare."

"The wood?"

G moaned.

"Affirmative I gather," Sam said. "Do you need me to call Nate?"

"I don't want him coming here, man."

"If you need the medicine, then that's the way it is."

"Crap." G sighed and inched backward into Sam. "I'll be drugged and damn it, how will I get out of here?"

"I'll take care of it, sweetheart, don't worry about that."

"I hate this." He pulled the blankets over his pillow covered head.

"I need an answer soon."

_Damn it, this is ridiculous. I shouldn't be like this._

"Come on, G."

He pulled the cover down and tucked it under his chin. "Do it." He mumbled around the pillow.

"Good, let's get ready to go," he said. "After you get the medication you won't be in any position to get dressed."

G pulled the pillow off his head. "And besides I think Nate would prefer I wear clothes."

"You think?" Sam kissed his lover on the neck. "I, on the other hand, love this look."

"I'll bet you do."

"And that t-shirt did it for me last night," he said. "We're buying more of those so I can ogle your sexy body whenever I want."

G rolled onto his back and gazed into Sam's dark brown eyes. "Can we do this again?"

"Shack up in a hotel?"

"Yeah." He grinned. "I loved the change of pace." He wrapped his arms around his lover's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. "I love you."

"This time you pay for and arrange it, and I'll pay for the meals."

"When I start working again I could afford it."

"I know another way you could afford it."

"Yeah, how?"

"Rent your house out and move in with me," Sam said.

G's eyes widened. "You're serious?"

"Yep, would love it if you lived with me."

"Remember what I told you years ago, I complete you." The left corner of his mouth turned upward.

"You've had it, man." Sam positioned himself on top of his lover. "I wonder if we have time for another s'more sandwich."

"Not if you texted Nate."

"He'll be here in less than thirty minutes," he said, glancing at his watch. He sighed and rolled off of G and sat on the bedside. "Interested in a quick shower with me?"

"Yeah." G turned to his side and inched toward his lover, straddling Sam's hips and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"That feels exquisite, sweetheart, I love the feel of your hairy chest against my smooth back." He reached behind him and drew G onto his lap. "Damn, I can't get enough of you." Sam kissed him. "Shower?"

"I wish we had time to make love in the shower."

"When we get home we'll have plenty of time to do that."

"I'd rather do it here, it's romantic and restful with the sound of the ocean in the distance," he said. "The salty ocean air lures me to make love to you."

Sam stood and set G on his feet. "I love you more each moment I'm with you."

They entered the expansive limestone tiled bathroom and stepped into the walk-in shower together.

"Maybe, if we get serious enough, we might want to sell both of our houses and buy something closer to the ocean," Sam said.

"We're not serious enough right now?" G asked.

"I'm not the one with cold feet, sweetheart."

"Me?"

"Yeah, I haven't heard you say anything about moving in with me on a permanent basis."

"This is the first time you made that option available."

"And?"

"Damn." G grabbed the bar of soap and started to wash his own chest.

"No, you don't, man, this body belongs to me," Sam said. "Turn around and face the window and enjoy the view and the salty air."

"While you enjoy the view?" G smirked.

"Maybe you don't need that medicine any more, man, you've got a one track mind."

"You do that to me, I feel relaxed in your presence."

"Yeah, except when you totally lose it." Sam closed the space between them wrapping his arms around G's chest and washing him at the same time.

G pressed back against his lover's body wanting to be closer. "Yeah, that's true, but the rest of the time you're a calming presence."

"I'll buy that." He stepped backward and washed his lover's neck, back, and buttocks.

"Careful."

"I know, erogenous zone, ultra-deluxe warning, tread lightly." Sam chuckled and continued down his lover's legs and back up the front. "Face me."

G turned around and relaxed against the aqua colored tile shower wall. "Yes."

"What?"

"Yes, I want to move in with you."

Sam cupped G's face with two hands and tenderly kissed him. "I'd love that, sweetheart." He finished washing his lover's face, chest, and groin.

"Nothing?"

"Unfortunately, we don't have time for that." He pulled his lover under the water with him rinsing him off.

"I'll bet you tell that to all your easy lays."

"Believe me, you weren't an easy lay," he said, smirking.

Lines creased G's forehead. "I wasn't?"

"Nope, it took four times, remember?"

"Yeah, you're right." He sighed.

Sam dropped the bar of soap into his lover's hands. "Your turn to wash me."

G started washing his partner's face, chest, and finished with his groin and legs. His froze halfway through the experience. He was going through the motions. Yet he was not present.

"Feels great," he said, watching his partner bathe him. "What's going on with you?"

G abruptly stopped bathing his lover. "What do you mean?"

"Something changed in the last minute or so."

He averted his gaze to the wall behind Sam. "Nothing changed, turn around and face the wall."

"No, talk to me, G."

_Damn it, this is too familiar, again. I cannot control these flashes and this fear, no, it's terror._

Sam grasped both of his lover's hands and held them away from his own body. "Please look at me." He held him closer. "Come on, man, talk to me." All G could do was tremble and stare at the shower wall. "Memory?"

He nodded and his trembling escalated to hard, shaking shivers.

Sam pulled his lover into his body and held him tight. "You're safe, hear me, let me finish with my shower, you don't need to do this."

"I wanted to, damn it." Tears formed in the corners of his blue eyes.

"Here, sit on the bench." He backed G up to the teak shower bench and settled him down on it. "Let me finish. Nate will be here soon."

He stared at the shower drain and listened to the water trickle down it.

"G?" Sam asked him a third time.

G glanced at his lover for a moment and let his chin drop to his chest.

"Sweetheart, let's get you rinsed off again."

"Crap, I'm losing it."

He helped his lover off the teak shower bench, brought him into his arms, and stepped under the Grohe Rainshower shower head. "It's okay, man, Nate's arriving soon." Sam turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and dried G. "Stay with me, sweetheart." He placed a single finger on his lover's chin and raised his chin until their eyes met. "You're safe." Sam used another towel to dry himself. "Let's get you dressed." He placed his hand on G's waist and guided him into the bedroom. "Sit and let me dress you."

"Damn it, I can't do anything, I hate this." Tears flowed down his cheeks.

"Doesn't matter right now, sweetheart, you need this and I want to do this for you." Sam dressed G in his ocean blue t-shirt and his faded blue jeans. "I'm skipping the socks." He put on his lover's shoes.

"Sorry, I didn't have any clean ones."

"When you move in with me, you'll have plenty of clean ones."

"I need to go shopping for more," G said with a monotone, disconnected voice.

"Hey, everything's gonna be okay."

"I need you to hold me."

"Let me finish getting dressed and—"

"No, damn it, now, please hold me."

Sam pushed G onto his back and laid on top of him. "Easy, man, you need to wait."

"This feels better, I just need you close right now."

"I understand, give me a couple of minutes and I'll hold you." He climbed off his lover and finished dressing.

G sighed. "This is stupid and I hate it."

"Don't hate your need, sweetheart, you're going through some serious memories," Sam said. "This is what you need from me." He sat on the bed and put on his shoes. "Same problem here, no socks." He laid down next to G and drew him into his arms stroking his tear-stained cheeks with the fingers of his left hand. "I want to be here for you." Sam kissed his lover's neck and sucked on his ear lobe.

A knock on their door startled them both.

"I guess we're both jumpy."

"Didn't know you had it in you." G smirked.

"So when I hold you it does relax you."

"I told you it does and I hate to admit it."

"Why?"

"I'm a softie."

"No, you just found what makes you feel good and relaxed and there's nothing wrong with that." Sam kissed him again and climbed off the bed to answer the door. He led Nate into their hotel suite.

"Hey, Callen."

"Hi Nate."

"I'll give you a choice, the full shot or half of the syringe."

"The flashbacks and nightmares come and go," he said. "But my reactions to them are brutal."

"Your choice."

G sat upright and sighed. "All of it." He resigned himself to being drugged again.

Nate sat on the bed, swabbed Callen's left biceps area with an alcohol pad, and readied the syringe. "On three?"

"No, just do it, fast and—" He flinched as the needle jabbed his skin.

"All finished." He put away the syringe and alcohol pad in a small pouch in his jacket pocket. "Let's get you downstairs before the medicines take effect."

"Wait a minute! Medicines?"

"Same as before, Callen, a sedative and a tranquilizer, this time heavier on the tranquilizer and lighter on the sedative."

"Nate," Sam said, handing him the key to their suite. "I need you to check out for us. I'll take this from here. Check out shouldn't be a problem, because we had no extra charges. Everything was paid for in full last night."

"No problem."

Sam watched him leave the room and then he hoisted G off the bed. He wrapped his arm around his lover's waist. "Here we go, sweetheart."

G stepped forward, stumbled, and regained his balance. "What the hell was in that shot?"

"It's a combination of the hot shower, me holding you, and the drugs."

"Makes sense."

They strode down the hallway and stepped into an elevator. They rode it down to the first floor and exited out the rear to the parking garage.

"Glad we parked close to the elevator," G said as they neared the Challenger.

Sam unlocked and opened the passenger door, settling G on the seat. "Want it reclined?"

"Yeah, would feel better."

He reclined the seat and snuck in another kiss. "Can't get enough of your sexy body, and you look sexier when you're drugged and helpless."

G grinned and settled back against the reclined seat. "You like your men compliant?"

"Yeah, that and willing."

"I'm willing."

"Yep." Sam fastened his partner's seatbelt and stole another kiss.

G wrapped his arms around his lover's neck and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. "I can't wait until you make love to me again."

Sam straightened and closed the passenger door. He climbed into the driver's seat and fastened his seatbelt. "Neither can I." He revved the engine and backed out of the parking place heading toward the garage's exit. "Interested in picking up some donuts on the way home?"

"Sounds good, but I also need something with sustenance for lunch."

"Great idea, I'll stop by and get us croissant sandwiches."

"And later we can make s'more sandwiches."

"Anytime, sweetheart." Sam patted G's thigh. He turned left onto Ocean Avenue and immediately noticed that they had a tail. "Damn it." Sam glanced over at G's supine and resting body. His lover was drugged and that was perfect for what he had to do next; lose their tail, a dark blue SUV, possibly a Cadillac. Several times he attempted to change lanes to elude their tail or ascertain their license plate. He hung a sharp left on Pacific Terrace, cutting off traffic. Sam nearly caused a three car pileup in the intersection. That ought to show up on a traffic cam and alert NCIS that he was in trouble. At least he hoped it would have that effect. Still their tail persisted to follow and even closed the gap between their vehicles. Sam veered left on Pico Boulevard and raced toward the light at Ocean Avenue. He hoped he'd make it through in time. Instead, he was forced to run a red light. A sure ticket. "Hell." He gunned his engine pressing the gas peddle to the floor and raced toward 4th Street. The lighter traffic of a Sunday morning aided him in his getaway. It provided the same advantage for their tail; the ability to weave through traffic just as fast.

G moaned in his drugged stupor and turned slightly to his left. "What's going on?" He asked. "Maybe I should drive."

"In your drugged state?" Sam smirked.

"You ran a clear red light," he said. "And you worry about what I do."

"Yep, and I'd run another one if I had to," he said. "Hold on, man, another tight turn at high speed."

"You practicing for a race?" He asked with a lower tone than usual and slurred speech.

"Eluding a tail." Sam took a sharp right on Olympic Drive and headed toward the Santa Monica Freeway.

"Crap." G sat upright.

"Lay back down, man, you're most likely the target."

"But I could help you and get their license number."

"And get yourself killed, if this person wants to take you out."

"Damn it, Sam, let me help you."

"Only if you can do it without compromising yourself."

G sighed and took out his cell phone. "I'll call Hetty first."

"Good move," he said, "I can't do this and that at the same time." He raced toward the freeway onramp and saw a red light. A long line of traffic was stopped ahead on the ramp. "Damn it, hold on, we're driving on the curb."

"Is that legal?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I'm glad I'm drugged out of my gourd." G smirked.

"Me too," Sam said. "You can't be freaking out on me while you're drugged with a tranquilizer and sedative."

"Thanks."

"Thanks?"

"Yeah, I meant it too."

Sam edged the Challenger onto the curb and sped past a six vehicle backup at the onramp light. "I hope we get the attention of LAPD." He sighed. "I've broken the speed limit and made many traffic violations." He raced past the line of cars and entered the freeway. The drivers he passed honked their horns and flipped him the bird. "I think they're pissed."

"You want LAPD's assistance?" He asked. "I'll call them too."

"Get Hetty yet?"

G autodialed her number a second time. "No answer two times in a row."

"That's odd."

"Quite odd, but she could be on a special ops and we wouldn't know it."

"No, she told me all man power is on this ops," Sam said. "And on your personal investigation into the DEA and CIA joint operation in Costa Rica."

"I just finished dialing a third time and allowed it to ring ten times."

"Call Eric."

G autodialed his number. The line went dead. "What just happened?" he said. "Something is off, Sam. This is freaking me out."

"G?"

"The line went dead before Eric could pick up." He autodialed LAPD and got a busy signal. "What in the hell is going on?"

"Who'd you call?"

"LAPD, and they're busy, since when have you ever called on our private access line to the LAPD and got a busy signal?"

"Never." Sam now raced on the freeway at speeds well in excess of the speed limit.

"I'm surprised you haven't got a police officer up your ass by now."

"Me too, damn it."

"Tail is still there?"

"Yeah, can't elude these bastards whoever they are."

G rolled down his window and held his cell phone outside trying to capture the tailing vehicle's license number. He took several images, pulled his hand back inside the car, and rolled up his window. "Now who do I send this to?"

"Good question."

He autodialed Hetty's number again. This time the line went dead as Eric's had done. G shuddered hard thinking what this ominous sign could mean. One of three things: NCIS had to be taken offline due to a breach or the building was compromised or the building was destroyed. G needed to find out about the license number on his own. He punched in the number on the Challenger's onboard search engine which was connected via the internet to NCIS Headquarters. The moment the connection was made, the computer shut down. "Oh crap!"

"G?"

"We're screwed, Sam, something is wrong at NCIS Headquarters," he said. "I'll give you three guesses."

"And none one of them are good."

"Damn it."

"Turning onto the San Diego Freeway heading toward NCIS Headquarters," Sam said. "Lie back and rest."

"But what if—"

"G, you don't need to worry about this on top of your crap."

"Our tail?" He glanced at his partner. A scowl crossed Sam's face. "Damn it, tell me, I'm a big boy, I can handle it."

"Now there are two vehicles of the same description following us."

"Crap."

"Damn it! G, get in the back seat on the floor ASAP, don't ask questions, just do it."

Before he unfastened his seatbelt his window was shattered into thousands of pieces by several bullets. One bullet whizzed past G's chest missing Sam and shattering his partner's window.

"Just get down, man, get your damned seatbelt off and hunker down." He swerved hard left and passed in front of several cars, cutting them off. Sam entered the HOV-lane and gunned his engine again racing toward NCIS, lengthening the distance between him and their tail. "G?" He glanced over at his partner and noticed his breathing was off. "You okay?" Sam touched G's left thigh and gently shook him. A wet, warm, and sticky substance clung to his fingers and hand. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed 911. "Damn it, G, talk to me. Don't you dare die on me, man, you hear me? Say something, damn it, say anything."

He spoke into his cell phone. "I need an ambulance and or a police escort to the UCLA Medical Center. I'm approximately five miles out. Shots fired. One man wounded with an unknown injury." He set the open cell phone on the dash and raced toward the UCLA Medical Center.

* * *

><p>Thanks for ready my story.<p> 


	10. Go Rogue, Ch 9

I am able to post new chapters at least once a day and sometimes twice a day right now. That translates to shorter wait times for the next chapter for my readers.

Thank you for reading my story. I appreciate your reviews and love them.

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Rogue Agents<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

**Daffynition: POTUS** — President Of The United States

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Go Rogue<strong>

**Chapter 9**

Sam was not accustomed to pacing. When things got tense he meditated. It calmed him. With his lover and partner in surgery with an unknown injury caused by an unsub sniper, he could not do anything except pace the halls outside the surgical suites at UCLA Medical Center. To make matters worse, he had no contact with NCIS Headquarters and no way to contact them. Sam attempted several calls to both Hetty and his teammates without success. At a time when he needed his team and Hetty for stability, he had lost them to some unknown attack or compromise or breach. Worse still, he could not leave the hospital to check on the situation at NCIS Headquarters.

Exhausted from his two hours of pacing and his ongoing stress, Sam finally sat on a sofa, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. He rubbed the bridge of his nose several times trying to relieve the tension in his forehead and eyes. It was not working as it usually did. And meditation in this busy corridor while he waited for news about his lover and partner was out of the question. Sam tried some deep breathing exercises to relieve the tension. They were similar to the ones he used during meditation. They only caused his level of stress to increase to the next heightened level. It had been years since he allowed himself to feel this level of stress. Normally, he kept his tension and stress in perfect check. The only time recently he lost his cool was during his divorce hearings. He desperately tried to change his wife's mind. Sam did not want the divorce. His wife did.

Once again, he autodialed Hetty and when he got no answer, he tried Eric's number next without success. Afterward, he autodialed Nell's, then Kensi's, and finally Deeks's number. No answers. Maybe it was time for the last resort: placing a call to the director. Sam cringed when he thought about calling Director Vance and the situation turning out to be a glitch in the communication center at NCIS. He held off for the longest time possible. After scrolling down through the numbers on his cell phone, he found the director's phone number. Sam hesitated once more, reluctant to take this next step. He practiced several more rounds of deep breathing exercises. After selecting the director's number, he autodialed it. No turning back now, damn it. His phone rang and rang. At least ten times and no answer. Sam released the breath he was holding in a long, noisy sigh. No messages on anyone's voice mail or NCIS's voice mail system. No way to leave a message in the voice mail system. No typical 'not in service' message. This was highly irregular.

It was now confirmed, the whole of NCIS had been breached. A hard shudder ripped through his body. They were on their own with no one to contact and no known rendezvous point. There had been a designated one in the past. Sam decided he would investigate it as soon as he knew his partner could be left alone in the hospital.

And what happened with LAPD? There was another mystery. The paramedics never arrived to escort him to the Emergency Department at UCLA Medical Center. Another mystery. This was as creepy as the quintessential creep G described.

Another Code Blue was called in the surgical suites. Every time Sam heard one called, he was brought back to the situation at hand with his lover and partner injured and the extent of his injuries unknown to him.

A male nurse dressed in a light blue, full surgical suit approached him. "Mr. Hanna, your partner came through surgery fine and has asked for you numerous times," he said. "I'll take you to him, he's in recovery." Sam followed the nurse through two swinging, double doors, down a long hallway to the left, and into a private recovery room close to the nurses's station. "I'm Dan, if you need anything I'll be across the hall or one room down from Mr. Callen's room."

"Thank you." He stood inside the door. For the first time in his life, Sam was afraid to walk up to G's bedside. The deep love he felt for his partner, who was now his lover too, kept him from moving forward and seeing the full extent of the man's injuries. For several moments, he stayed by the entrance and gathered the inner strength to cross the room to G's side. Finally, he stepped into the dim lit room. The only light came from an over-bed light fixture against the wall behind the bed. Sam grasped his partner's hand, leaned over the hospital bed, and tenderly kissed G's forehead. He fully expected to see every type of medical equipment G had when he was injured in the drive-by shooting. Only a nasal cannula for oxygen and one intravenous line for fluid replacement and pain medication dispensing were attached to his lover's body. He released the breath he had been holding with a long, deep sigh.

G stirred, opened his eyes, and glanced up into his lover's chocolate brown eyes. "Sam, what happened to me?"

"I know as much as you do and that's nothing."

"And NCIS?"

"We're on our own, man, NCIS has been breached."

G's eyes widened.

"I called Director Vance and I got the same results as I did with our team, no answer, no voice mail, and not even a 'not in service' message."

"That worries me."

"I can't say it makes me feel warm and fuzzy all over," Sam said. "But seeing you without life support makes me feel warm and fuzzy." He smirked. "And it makes me want to take you home and have my way with you in _our_ bed."

"Warm and fuzzy?" G asked. "I guess I'll accept that if I can get the latter part."

The male nurse entered the room and walked over to the far side of the bed. "Time for vitals again."

Sam's thoughts drifted back to his number one concern. What the hell were they gonna do now?

"Your doctor will update you both on your condition and the surgery within the hour."

"When can I leave the hospital?"

"You're still in recovery, G."

"Oh, now you tell me, I thought I was in the hospital." He winked at Sam.

"You'll be admitted soon," Dan said, turning to leave. "Anything else you require press this nurse call button." He lifted the control and placed it in G's hand.

Sam lowered his voice. "Got any ideas for our next move."

"Me?" He pointed to his chest. "I'm the one injured and lying flat on my back in the hospital and you wonder if I have any ideas."

"Well, I figured you had time to think."

"While unconscious and drugged with anesthesia?" He cracked a wry smile. "And you didn't come up with any while waiting for me to get out of surgery?" G scrutinized his partner closely. He noticed for the first time since they met and became partners, Sam was blushing and tearing up. He squeezed his partner's hand and rubbed his thumb back and forth along the top of his hand. G lowered his voice to a whisper. "What's going on, man?"

"Move over." G edged over to the far side of the hospital bed, making room for his lover. "Hold me, man, and don't ask any more questions," Sam said, lowering the bedside railing and crawling onto the bed next to his lover. He turned to his side and snuggled into G.

"Hey, that's supposed to be my line." He wrapped his right arm around his lover's neck and held him close stroking his right shoulder. G heard Sam softly crying into the side of his neck. "Easy, man." He released the nurse call button and stroked Sam's back and shoulder with his left hand.

"I'm losing it, man, damn it, I barely kept it together waiting for you to come out of surgery," he said, sniffling. "Now we're orphans without an orphanage."

"What?" G lifted Sam's chin and gazed into his chocolate brown eyes. "We're not dead in the water yet."

"No one has given us a rendezvous point," he said. "There's no 'not in service' message. We've got nothing and no leads to go on."

"When has that ever stopped us before?" G asked.

"Never, but we had NCIS Headquarters backing us up."

"True, but I've done this before." He smirked.

"You forget I don't have your expertise with going rogue." Sam chuckled and winked at him.

"I'm glad you're joking about that."

"I know you couldn't help it, G, and it wasn't your fault."

G wiped the tears from the corners of his lover's eyes with his hospital gown. "Together we can—"

"Damn it, I thought I lost you!" Sam buried his face in his lover's chest. "I couldn't handle that on top of everything else. That was my breaking point." Sam muttered the words between heaving sobs. "I've always considered myself unbreakable and as strong as plexiglass, incapable of even a crack in my impenetrable shell, even when I was married. Now everything's changed. In one week, I've gone from this strong, nothing-can-phase-me man to a babbling and weeping head-over-heels in love-with-you man. Damn it, it shook me to the core to touch your thigh and feel what I knew was blood on it. And when you didn't answer me, I thought you were dying and damn it, I knew I couldn't live without you in my life and I wanted you living with me full-time. Oh hell, I think what I'm trying to say is, I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you."

G kissed Sam's forehead. "I feel the same way, Sam, I love you." He pulled his lover closer into his body.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>Thirty minutes later, G had come up with an idea. "I need your cell phone," he said. "I'd use mine, but I don't know where it is."<p>

"Charging in the car." Sam stretched in bed and leaned over to kiss his lover. "Thank you."

"Any time. Cell phone?"

"Pushy." He removed it from his back pocket and handed it to his lover. "Got a plan?"

"Yeah, one you might protest," G said. "I'm going for it anyhow." He scrolled through the list of phone numbers on his partner's phone until he came upon the one of _very_ last resort. The one an undercover ops agent called when there were no other options. Numerous times Hetty instructed them to take extreme caution when deciding on this option. The very sanity and next direction of their lives now depended on this call. G dialed the number and waited.

"White House Security, may I help you?" A man's deep voice answered the phone.

"This is Special Agent G. Callen with NCIS Headquarters in Los Angeles, I need to speak with the President on urgent matters of national security."

"One moment please."

The next voice he'd hear was that of the President. He involuntarily shivered.

"Special Agent Callen, I've expected your call," the President of the United States said. "There is a confirmed breach of NCIS worldwide. Expect a call within the hour with a code word. The contact person tells me you'll know what this means. I must go, the less said on unsecured lines the better."

The line went dead and all G heard was the sound of air hissing in the cell phone.

"Mind telling me what the hell that was about?" Sam asked, sitting up in the hospital bed. "You called POTUS?"

"I knew you'd have a problem with it," G said. "We ran out of options."

"Ran out of options?" He sighed. "How about LAPD?"

"Did you have any luck with that, man?"

"No."

"Any other agency I should've called first?" G asked.

"The FBI."

"Right, the government entity who failed to investigate my accusations regarding the DEA."

"I see your point there, what about the CIA?"

"Really, the CIA, come on, Sam, that's where this breach started." At least, he hoped that is where the breach had begun.

"You think so?"

"There's no other option the way I see it," he said. "Has to be a mole." G turned Sam's cell phone over and pulled the separate GPS tracking device out of the back.

"What are you doing to my—"

"Becoming a ghost, more accurately, we're becoming ghosts." He bent the small card device several times before breaking it into two pieces. "Here, I'll leave you with the honors of finishing this." G handed Sam the busted GPS device and put the cell phone back together. When it vibrated in his hand, he answered it and heard the same deep voice he heard when the White House Security answered the phone.

"Go Rogue."

The phone went dead again and G opened the back of it. He removed the battery and smart card. "Just as I thought she'd say."

"She?"

"It's got to be Hetty and I'm not saying the two words out loud," he said. "Here's another project for your strong fingers." G handed Sam the smart card. "Bust it up. Next, I need to check out of this hospital."

"Great, man, it would help if you actually got admitted to the hospital." He cracked a wry grin.

The corners of G's mouth turned upward. "It's probably for the best that I never got officially admitted in the first place," he said. "I need to find out about my condition. Then we need to get our butts out of here."

"I'd like to get my you-know-what in your you-know-what." Sam chuckled.

"Maybe we'll have time for that later."

"Always delaying my pleasure."

"No, you're the one who delayed mine, remember?"

Sam pulled G into him and planted a sloppy kiss on his soft lips. "Don't worry, we'll find an alcove somewhere and smooch."

"I hope it's off the beaten path."

"So no one ogles your sexy body but me."

"Yeah." He grinned wide thinking about Sam making love to him in some private spot off a beaten path.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>G strode toward the Challenger which Sam had brought up to the discharge exit doors. His partner stood by the passenger door to assist him with sitting in the car. "I'm fine, man, I don't need your help."<p>

"The doctor says to take it easy with sitting for the next couple of days," he said. "Besides, it gives me the opportunity to kiss you."

"Ulterior motives." G snickered.

Sam guided his partner into the semi-reclined seat, kissed him, fastened his seatbelt, and kissed him again.

"I like this routine we've got going." He wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and pulled him down for a passionate, lingering kiss.

Sam broke off the kiss. "Damn, if you keep doing that we'll need that alcove sooner than I planned."

"That's the whole idea."

"We could check into a hotel again," G said.

"I'd love that."

"Got enough money?" Sam shut the passenger door and climbed into the driver's side.

"Yeah."

He glanced at G sideways.

"There's got to be a tracking device in your car," G said, changing the subject fast. He wasn't ready to address the money issue yet. But he knew it would arise sooner or later.

"Why do you say that?"

"They knew where we were and followed us."

"If you think so, find it." Sam started the engine and drove out of the circular driveway heading toward his house.

The Challenger's dashboard was the first place he searched for tracking device. G stared at the dashboard where the removable radio/CD player connected to the dash. Something was different. He reached out his hand to touch the radio/CD player. Upon closer inspection, G decided against that move when he saw wires dangling from the player. The radio/CD player was not seated properly in the slot. "Sam, I think you'd better head toward the beach."

"You want to shack up at Shutters again?"

"Sam, damn it, listen to me, I'm trying to be serious."

"You serious about the relationship?"

"No, well yes, damn it, look at the dashboard."

Sam eyed his dashboard and zeroed in on the removable radio/CD player. He swallowed hard upon seeing several wires dangling from the unit. It was positioned halfway into the holding slot in the dashboard.

"Now you know what I'm talking about, right?"

"Yeah, I see it." He changed directions and raced toward Santa Monica Beach, where he could drive out onto the sand and get as far away from people as possible. A full fuel tank. Damn it, he berated himself for gassing up his car just before the weekend. "Take the cover off the radio." Sam slowed the Challenger just before entering the San Diego Freeway.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, nice and slow, man."

G placed his hands on the slim cover plate on the radio/CD player's front. With his fingers and hands normally steady, this maneuver would have been easy. After all that had happened to him, G could not keep his hands from trembling. He tugged it once. "What if that's the trigger?" It did not budge.

"Don't think so, try it once more."

He cringed and tugged on the cover plate again and this time it released.

"How many minutes?"

"23."

"Screw this, man, I love this car, she's my baby, damn it." Tears welled up in his dark chocolate brown eyes. Sam entered the freeway and headed toward the beach.

"You can dismantle the bomb, right?" G asked.

"I won't have time and at the same time get this car to the beach away from people."

"Damn it, sorry, Sam," he said. "Hetty will buy you a new one."

"The hell she will, she didn't buy this one, damn it."

"What's her name, you never told me?"

"I decided I liked your choice of names, Sheryl, with a S."

"Maybe the insurance will buy you a new one."

"Comes back to Hetty, man, and she won't do it," he said. "How many minutes?"

"21, give or take a couple of seconds."

Sam pulled out into traffic and turned onto the freeway onramp. He pressed the pedal to the floorboard and for once used the engine as it was meant to be used, full-bore. Had it been noon on a Monday, traffic would stall their plans to dump Sheryl at the beach. The stark darkness of night on the beach would soon be the scene of a conflagration of bright, hot light. "Remove my second gun from the lock box under your seat."

"The combination?"

"Same year as the car."

"Too easy."

"Needed fast access."

G removed the gun and tucked it into the back of his jeans. "Wish I had a change of clothes."

"Wish this was a different scenario, damn it."

"How close are we?"

"Ten miles away bearing no traffic jams or accidents."

"15 minutes and counting," G said.

"You know I still can't figure out why LAPD hasn't tracked us on their radar."

"Maybe Hetty's protecting us, because she knows our situation," G said.

"I doubt it." He sighed.

"None of this makes sense."

"Why didn't those unsubs take you out?" Sam asked.

"I'm glad they didn't," G said.

"But they could've easily scrubbed you this time."

"What do you mean this time?"

"The glass, man, it was meant to kill you," Sam said.

"Yeah, I forgot about that," G said. That accident was no accident and the glass should've sliced clean through his carotid arteries, taking him out instantly. Instead, his body was catapulted through the windshield.

"If you had leaned forward three inches more, your aorta would be severed."

"I don't want to think about it." Another instant death. When he heard Sam's orders in the car, G pressed himself against the seat. If he had leaned forward to unfasten the seatbelt, he'd be dead. Crap. This was no accident either. These unsubs wanted him out of the picture. Now, he had all the proof he ever wanted sitting halfway in the dashboard of Sam's Challenger.

"How many minutes?"

"12 minutes, give or take."

"This is too close." Sam raced down the Santa Monica Freeway offramp and took 4th Street toward Pico Boulevard.

"After this is over I want a stay at Shutters."

"So you can clean the crap off your pants?" He sniggered.

"Damn it, Sam, this isn't funny."

"I'm not joshing you, I'll be doing the same thing." He raced down Pico running the red light at Ocean Avenue. He swerved left on Ocean as it angled toward Crescent Bay Park and the beach beyond. Sheryl's tires squealed.

"Less than 9 minutes."

Sam floored the gas peddle. The Challenger careened around the last corner. He raced down Bicknell Avenue. The beach finally in his sight he sighed. He drove the car out onto the sandy beach as far as Sheryl's wheels could take them. Her final resting place. "Don't open your door. Climb out the window."

"What?" G asked.

"Don't know if the doors will activate it sooner."

"Great."

Sam left the engine running, and climbed through his window. He rushed around to the passenger's side and helped his partner out the window. They fell backward onto the sand. "You okay?" Sam leaped to his feet.

"Yeah, let's get the hell out of here." G leaped to his feet. He half ran, half walked away from the Challenger looking back over his shoulder several times waiting for the coming conflagration.

"Come on, man, we need to create more distance between us and the—"

A humungous explosion behind them rocked the ground. The blast knocked them off their feet and planted them face first on the Ocean Front Walk pavement.

Sam instinctively rolled on top of G, shielding him from any shrapnel. "We good?"

"Yeah, and I didn't crap in my pants," he said. "Although, I could sure use a shower about now."

"How about a s'more sandwich?"

"How close is Shutters?"

"A couple of blocks from here."

"Good, not much waiting time," G said turning his face to eye Sam.

"Yeah, and I could use a good meal too."

"I thought I was supposed to take it easy for a few days."

"Yeah, but who can plan a day when you're an undercover ops agent." Sam snickered, stood and offered his partner a hand. He used two hands to hoist G off the pavement.

"We need to become ghosts and toss all IDs into _your_ bonfire."

"_My_ bonfire?"

"Yeah, you know the beach patrol frowns upon bonfires." G sniggered. "And no fires after 10 PM."

"Whatever, man," Sam said, sighing.

They strode toward the now fully engulfed Challenger, flames reaching high into the dark night sky. Together they removed all credit cards and IDs from their pockets and tossed them on the conflagration.

"Your cell phone too," G said.

"Watch?"

"Yep."

G and Sam tossed the last remaining GPS enabled devices into the fire and stared at it for several minutes.

Sam wrapped an arm around his lover's waist.

"Where's the marshmallows when you need them?" The corners of G's mouth turned upward.

"For that we need a hotel suite at Shutters." Sam grinned wide.

"You're serious about going there right now?"

"Yep, one hundred percent serious." Sam pulled G into him, kissing him hard on the lips. "I need you," he whispered. He grasped G's hand and together they strode back to the Ocean Front Walk. "I got at least 500 cash on me. You?"

"Well, I…"

"You what?" He stopped and faced him. "How much do you have on you? Don't tell me you only carry cards. I'm mean it would be okay. In this case, we'd need to choose something less expensive."

"I carry at least a grand on me at all times."

"What?" Sam's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "Wait, you told me you're dirt poor when it comes to paying for a room."

"Not if we're on an undercover ops or a case."

"What?"

A sheepish grin spread over his face. "Yeah, well, I always go on an ops prepared."

"All these years we've worked together and I never knew."

They started to walk toward the hotel again.

"I saw no need to tell you."

"At least a grand?" Sam asked still shocked by his partner's odd behavior. "How much right now?"

G swallowed hard. "3."

Sam stopped and eyed his partner. "What?"

"Well, I was on an ops, remember."

"Yeah, when you chased after the ghost," Sam said. "I need to apologize for the way I've treated you when you've gone out on your own."

"Why?"

"You didn't deserve my wrath, sweetheart." He started to walk toward the hotel again.

"It's okay."

"No, it isn't." He sighed. "You're the most resourceful man I know. Now I understand more about how you planned ahead for the situations you might encounter."

"I figured I needed to stay one step ahead of the game."

As they neared Hotel Casa Del Mar, Sam grabbed G and shoved him into an alcove on the side of the hotel.

"Okay, is this where you want—"

"Shut up and get on your knees!"

"Pushy." G muttered and slid to his knees.

Sam aimed his gun at the man who had stayed with them the entire time on the walkway. The man passed by them without glancing their way. He holstered his gun and let out a long sigh. "You can get up."

"You mean you don't want a—"

"Someone was following us down the walkway."

"Oh, I thought you wanted me to—"

Sam drew G up into his arms and kissed him hard on the mouth forcing his tongue inside. "Never in public, sweetheart, I like my privacy."

"So your promises were what?"

"I hope you're not hurt by me enticing you."

"I thought, damn, I'm a push over."

"If you want to have sex in public, I suggest we do it in the—damn it." Tears filled his eyes.

G wrapped his arms around Sam's waist. "I promise we'll find a way to get you another Challenger, and then we'll christen it with a s'more sandwich."

"Let's get a room, I need you to hold me," Sam said.

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading.<p> 


	11. Dirty Tricks, Ch 10

I love the reviews, keep them coming! Thanks!

And I love destroying icons. It gives me the opportunity to come up with something new.

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Rogue Agents<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

**Daffynition:** **Dirty Tricks** — Covert sabotage carried out by a security service or intelligence agency, ranging from pranks to assassination.

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Dirty Tricks<strong>

**Chapter 10**

G climbed into bed behind Sam and wrapped his arms around his lover's chest. "Now I get to ask again," he said. "We good?"

"Beyond good, thanks for doing this for me again, I really need it," Sam said snuggling back into his lover.

But G wasn't good. Three times an unsub attempted to kill him. Three times. His anxiety level was off the charts. He tried to keep his feelings to himself. Sam needed him. G rested his face against the soft, dark chocolate toned skin on his lover's back.

"And you?"

Damn. His hiatus was over.

Sam pulled away from his partner and faced him. "G?"

He glanced down at his partner's chest and then up into his eyes.

"Talk to me, man, you good?"

G released a shaky, long sigh. "Yeah."

Sam drew him into his chest cuddling and stroking his partner's back. "I know that look and that sigh, you're not doing good."

He buried his face in his partner's chest and wrapped his arms around his neck. "Just hold me, no more questions."

"I think I deserve one answer, what was the call back for from the White House?"

"I guess it's safe enough here to tell you." Tears fell on Sam's bare chest. "Go Rogue. And I'm sure the message is from Hetty."

"And that means something to you?"

"Yeah, it means to become a ghost and possibly a double agent."

"I take it she sent you the message before?"

"Once and that was around the time I first started at NCIS."

"Maybe, just maybe, that's what this message meant too."

G raised his head. "Yeah, that's it, she's sending me a message to meet her at one of her houses," he said. "Which one is the mystery."

"We need some burn phones ASAP," Sam said. "And what about you?" He cupped his lover's face in both his hands. "What do you need from me?"

"Don't know."

Sam pulled G into him again and stroked his back. "Maybe this is all you need for now."

"It feels as if there's a volcano about to erupt inside of me."

"Or as if something is crawling around in your gut."

"Yeah, that's it."

"Anxiety, G, and it's understandable considering someone tried to kill both of us."

"And me twice before."

Sam caressed his lover's face. "Congratulations, you're normal."

"I'm not sure I like the way that sounds." G laid his head on his lover's chest once more.

"Normally, you and I keep our anxiety in check to function as undercover ops agents."

"So now you're saying I'm not normal?" G sniggered.

Sam grinned wide. "Oh, you're asking for it." He rolled his lover onto his back and laid on him lengthwise. "I love when we banter and I need more of that right now. Let's go rogue, I need another hot adventure with you. By the way, where did you come up with our hotel check-in names?"

"I'll only tell you if you promise not to beat me up." The corners of his mouth turned upward. "The TV series Alias Smith and Jones."

"You serious?"

"Yeah."

"Creative and odd."

"Odd?"

"Yeah, and you made me Jones."

"You look like a Jones."

"I do?"

"Have you ever met an African American man named Smith?" G chuckled.

"Damn, you're cruising for a long romp in the sack," Sam said, pulling the covers over both of them. "You know that wasn't their names."

"Of course, that's why I chose those names," G said, wrapping his arms around his lover's neck and drawing him down for a lingering kiss. "They fit what they had to become; men with aliases who were outlaws or outside the law. That's exactly what we're gonna be doing in order to discover our ghost's identity and who attempted to murder you and me. There's only one difference they didn't shoot anyone. I plan to kill at least one man."

"Has anyone ever told you how hot and sexy you look when you get all riled up over something?"

"What?" G tilted his head.

"Hot and sexy."

"I think you've got a one track mind."

"Yeah, and it's aimed at your body," Sam said.

"Let's go rogue, and later you can have your way with me."

"And while we're going rogue I can ogle you sexy body."

"Man, you can't get enough of me."

"Nope." Sam leaped off the bed and offered G his hand. "We need a change of clothes too. I don't think it's safe to return to my house or your house."

"Agreed," he said. "Do you think we'll get amnesty after killing off our predators?"

"What?" Sam arched his left eyebrow.

"Well, Hannibal and Jedediah got amnesty from the government."

"In exchange for _not_ going rogue, G."

A sheepish grin spread over his face. "Oh well, I guess we're destined to be outlaws."

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>G and Sam stood outside the old warehouse which had housed the former NCIS Headquarters in Los Angeles. G wore his ocean blue t-shirt and Sam a midnight blue t-shirt.<p>

"Okay, if anyone asks, I'm Smith and you're Jones," G said.

"Why can't I be Smith and you be Jones?" Sam asked.

"Poor sport."

"You know where that phrase came from?"

"I do," G said. "It originated from a comment in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid when the characters are outside a bank in Bolivia and Sundance says: 'I'm Smith and you're Jones.'"

"You're keeping with the premise that we're outlaws?"

"Yeah, outside the law for the time being," he said. "I'm Smith and you're Jones, James Earl Jones, does that make you happier?"

"One problem, he's not bald."

"Always griping."

Sam pushed G face first against their red metallic, rental Challenger and whispered in his ear. "If you want some just ask." He obscenely rubbed his groin on his partner's buttocks.

He gasped. "Want what?"

"Don't act all innocent with me."

"I'm not, man, now let's go see what's in the building." G snickered.

"It better be abandoned for your sake."

"Why?"

"We ditched our guns and no longer have weapons."

"I thought it was a good idea considering us going rogue."

"You'd better hope Hetty has a plan where we can obtain more weapons."

"I better hope?" G grinned wide. "Where's your sense of adventure?" He pushed backward into his partner's body. "Besides I don't need a weapon, I've got you."

Sam flipped his partner around to face him. "Maybe you want to christen our former headquarters."

"Probably no heat in there," G said, dead pan.

"There will be when we're finished." He cupped his lover's face and kissed him hard forcing his tongue inside. G wrapped his arms around Sam's waist and pulled him close. "Damn, if we don't stop this we'll never get any work done."

"And who started it?"

"You did with the Alias Smith and Jones aliases."

"Never knew they got you so horny." G cracked a wry smile. "Now I know what to get you for Christmas this year."

"Man, you're screwed, and I do mean screwed when I get you back to _our_ hotel tonight."

G released Sam's waist and ducked under his arm, heading for the elevator shaft.

"That was smooth."

"Very." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

They stepped onto the elevator platform together.

"This feels like old times," G said.

"Isn't that sweet, getting all gushy on me now."

"Maybe you're the one who wants to christen this place."

"Maybe."

G pressed the button for level two. He always wondered why it was not called floor two. "You know this shouldn't—" The elevator started to ascend upward.

"Work?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, but obviously Hetty's been here."

"Or someone else."

When the elevator neared its stop both G and Sam plastered their bodies against the nearest wall and readied themselves for the unknown. Before lifting the gate, they scanned the long hallway in front of them.

"Clear." Sam raised the gate and stepped onto the floor into a corridor. G followed him staying several feet to the rear. "Any plan here," he said, lowering his voice.

"A hunch, Macy's former office."

"Okay, why there?"

"I'll tell you when we get there."

"If her desk is still there, I plan to mess with you in her office."

"Fat chance."

"Really?" Sam glanced over his shoulder.

"Yeah, fat chance the desk will be there." G sniggered.

They came around a corner, stepped up to a doorway of the office of their first supervisor and stared at the empty space.

"Now what, man?"

G entered the once cozy office space and systematically searched all four walls. What he thought he would find there was not there. He swore it had to be here. G stopped at the window and scanned the horizon hoping something would trigger him. Must be a clue somewhere. Sam came up behind him wrapping his arms around his partner's waist. "There's no desk."

"Yep, damn, maybe I'll have more luck in another room." The corner's of Sam's mouth turned upward.

"Damn it, I thought for sure, I was certain there was something here," he said, ignoring his partner's sexual innuendo.

"Do you know what you're looking for?"

"Yeah." G sighed and leaned back into Sam's body. "A small journal, the size of my palm."

"Did she tell you in that message from the White House?"

"No, it happened years ago when she asked, well, more precisely ordered me to go rogue," he said. "I assumed this would be the same." He stroked Sam's bare forearms. The act soothed and settled him. G allowed his mind to drift and his intuition took over as it did on an ops when he needed to find another solution to a problem. He closed his eyes and immediately an image came to mind. His eyes flew open. "I know where we need to go."

"Another wild goose chase for Alias Smith and James Earl Jones, onward." He snickered.

"We're gonna take a trip on the wild side."

"Of your mind?"

"Sam, I'm serious, besides you're the one who mentioned this place."

"And that's supposed to mean?"

"This next place is the one which first came to my mind."

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>"That's a tall wall to scale," Sam said, eyeing the seven foot high brick wall surrounding the property. "If we do this and get caught who knows what will happen to us." He turned off the engine on their rental car.<p>

"Chicken?"

"Whatever." Sam glared at him. "No, wondering who's gonna bail us out of jail."

"Deeks." They both said at once and grinned wide.

"If anyone can do it, it's you," G said. "He-man." He winked at his partner.

"What?" Sam shot him a look. "I got a better idea, why don't we use the gate."

"Her gate is wired for intruders."

"Now we're gonna scale the wall surrounding her property and hope there's not some crazed guard dog on the other side, or some ninja-like guard ready to attack us."

"Come on, Sam, it's Hetty's house not some gangster's house."

"I'm breaking into my supervisor's house," he said. "You're encouraging me to do it."

"Okay, forget it, I'll scale the wall myself and you stay here."

"No way you're scaling the wall after getting injured," Sam said.

"Come on, man, it was a graze, you heard what the doctor told me."

"It was a brush with death and you're not scaling that wall."

"Okay, mom." G winked at him.

"Oh, you're asking for it later," Sam said. He chuckled.

"I hope so," he said. "Stay here and make sure the Challenger doesn't disappear on us or get rigged to blow up by someone."

"What's the problem, we're insured for both."

G shook his head, opened the car door, climbed out, and stretched. "I can tell this is gonna be a long day."

Sam climbed out the driver's side and stretched.

"I got one question," G said.

"I possibly have an answer."

"Why again do you always get to drive?"

"You take the long way around LA."

"I enjoy the journey."

Sam shook his head. "This is gonna be a long day." He chuckled. After crossing the street, he picked a spot to scale the wall.

"It's far easier over in this direction."

He followed G over to the left side of the property and stared at the second, foot traffic gate which was wide open. "When we get back to the hotel, man, watch out."

"For?" He glanced over his shoulder.

"I'll rip you a new one."

"Why wait that long?" G chuckled. He strode up to a side door and peeked through the window. He used his lock picking set to open the door.

"No alarms."

"Never."

"No guard dogs."

"Never."

"No security."

"Never."

"Damn, you had me going."

"Going Alias Jones on me?"

"You'll get yours soon enough." Sam sniggered and followed G into Hetty's house. "This feels all wrong just as it did the last time we entered one of her houses."

"Not to me."

"You've been here?"

"Numerous times."

"You two got something going on the side?" Sam asked, sniggering.

With the floorboards above his head creaking, G flipped on his heels, placed a single finger on his lips, and pointed toward the ceiling. Both men instinctively reached for their weapons where their holsters used to be. They shot each other a look. Sam lead the way upstairs with G at the rear checking behind him. At the top of the stairs, they both stopped and listened. G pointed to the last door on their right. The floorboards creaked again and Sam moved toward the noise until he stood outside the room where the sound had originated. He motioned for G to get behind him and signaled with his fingers. One… two… three. Sam slammed against the room's door with his upper body. The door crashed into a wall and G rushed through the opening ready to attack whomever was in the room.

Their supervisor stood in the room's center with her gun drawn and pointed at him. "Hetty," G said.

"Glad you two are noisier than my neighbors or I would've shot you both clean through," she said, putting away the compact snubbed nose gun in her purse. "I see you got my message, Mr. Callen."

Sam breathed out a huge sigh of relief. "I should've known to trust someone who's gone rogue more times than I can count on one hand." He eyed his partner and grinned.

"I knew to come here," G said. "I didn't think you'd be home."

"I came here after I heard there was a Challenger found burnt to the ground on the beach in Santa Monica."

"Is it a breach?" G asked.

"Yes, NCIS worldwide," she said. "As much as we can figure, it occurred right after I began the investigation into a possible mole at the DEA."

His jaw dropped open. "Hetty, the DEA."

"At first we thought the usual, it had to be the CIA."

"Now what?"

"No contact again with NCIS until you catch this bastard," Hetty said. "And Mr. Callen lethal force has been authorized."

"How many unsubs?"

"At least one, possibly more, Eric was tracking the breach as it was occurring until he had to shut it down."

Chills went up G's spine. "An IP address?"

"A partial one, which IDs it to someone at the DEA."

"That's a bold move, breaching NCIS's computer system from inside the DEA," Sam said.

"Whomever this mole is they didn't care how much damage they wreaked and from where they did it."

"To implicate all of the DEA," G said, "that was their goal and to confuse their enemy." He shuddered knowing there was only one man who could even think of doing this. "What next," G said under his breath. He stepped over to the office window and stared down into the yard.

Sam came along side him. "If you know something, you need to tell her," he said, lowering his voice.

"It's one man." He spun on his heels and faced her. "Only one man that I know is capable of this type of breach."

"Mr. Callen?"

"My former supervisor at the DEA."

"The more I know about this man, the faster we can get NCIS back online."

"Good luck with that." G strode past her and left the office.

"G, damn it, where are you—"

Hetty gently grasped her agent's forearm, before he could walk past her. "Mr. Hanna, he needs to sort this out in his own way."

"What's there to sort out?" Sam asked. "This guy breached NCIS computers worldwide."

"I believe you'll find this opens up a whole new reality on who's behind his kidnapping."

His jaw dropped.

"I'm sorry, Sam, he's going to need you even more now that this has come to light."

"Where do we go from here?"

"Everything you need is on the dining room table," Hetty said.

"To go rogue?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

She released his forearm. "Go find him. He needs you. Needs your strength and your love. His world is about to crumble."

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>Sam found G downstairs, head bowed, standing in the dining room staring at a rectangle-shaped, red oak dining table which nearly filled a 15 foot long room. Without a word he came along side him and wrapped an arm around his waist. He watched G's tears splash onto the table top. "I'm here."<p>

"I need to get out of here, but I can't, damn it, make my body move."

"Let me grab the stuff off the table, and we'll be on our way."

"Got mine already." He released a shaky sigh which came out in sputters.

Sam pocketed his new ID, credit cards, and passport while keeping his arm around G's waist. "Let's go." He guided him toward the side door where they had entered the house. Before Sam could get G to the doorway, his partner collapsed on the floor. He lifted G into his arms and carried him out the door.

"Put me down, man, Hetty will see us and I don't want her—"

"Forget about her, man, you can't help yourself," Sam said. "She knows about us. She knows what's gonna happen with you." He carried him out to their rental car and helped him into the passenger seat. "Tell me you're gonna be okay," he said, seeing the mien on his partner's tear stained face.

"Don't know." He latched onto Sam's neck and pulled him close. "Take me some place away from this reality. I can't, damn it, can't do this," he said, lowering his voice.

Sam softly kissed him and fastened his seatbelt. "I love you." He closed G's door and climbed into the driver's seat.

"I'm glad you're driving."

"You got to choose the color of the car which was not a very discreet choice."

"The color of love, Sam."

"Damn." He started the engine and drove toward Santa Monica. "You could've told me and I wouldn't have protested as I did."

"We're staying at one of her other houses."

"Where?"

"Toluca Lake."

Sam reached across the center console and caressed G's face.

G pressed his face into his lover's caress. "I need you to hold me and I don't know if I can make it to her house before I fall apart, completely fall apart."

Sam pulled to the curb and stopped the car. He released G's seatbelt and pulled him across the center console and into his arms. Sam rocked G in his arms and caressed his face. "Whenever you're ready to talk I'm here," he said, keeping his voice tender and soft. "I love you, sweetheart."

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading my story.<p> 


	12. Shooting Straight, Ch 11

I meant to update this sooner. I got a new toy for Christmas, an iPad2, and got carried away with several new word games. I love word games. Back to updating my story. Thanks for your patience.

Thank you for reading and reviewing.

I love reviews.

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Rogue Agents<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Shooting Straight<strong>

**Chapter 11**

Sam left G sleeping on the crimson toned couch in the family room while he fixed something for dinner for the both of them. Every so often, he stopped and glanced over at his partner where he lay. Sam had a straight through view from the gourmet kitchen. The house had some great features which he knew would be necessary if he and G decided to buy a house together. First, they had to get through this new hurdle.

G stirred and took in the aroma from one of Sam's delicious dinners. His stomach growled. He turned over to his side facing the kitchen and watched his partner making their meal. "How long did I sleep?"

"All day." He came over to his partner's side, crouched down, and kissed him. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," G said. "The last thing I remember was you removing my stitches and telling me how great the skin looked on my left thigh."

"Now, you can get wet without worrying about it."

"Thanks, I could use another hug session."

"Thought so." Sam climbed onto the couch behind his partner and pulled him backward into a tight hug. "Dinner is ready whenever you are."

G pushed backward into his partner's body. "I need you."

"Can it wait until after dinner?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I need to feel close to you."

"Closer than this?"

"Yeah." He sighed.

"Okay, let's go eat and then retire for the night."

"Which bedroom?"

"How about we try one for tonight and try another one the next night?"

"One each night until we leave for DC?" G asked. Five days until they left for the ops. _I am not ready for this. Maybe I will never be ready for this ops._

"Yeah."

His former supervisor was the last person he wanted to see. His eyebrows furrowed.

Sam laid on G lengthwise. "I told you not to worry about this ops."

"Right, and you believe for one minute I can keep my mind off that man and what he's done to my life?" He gazed up into his partner's eyes. "Didn't think so."

"Later, I'll get your mind off him and onto me."

"That might work."

"Might." Sam asked, feigning a pout.

"Aw, big guy is hurt."

"Hurt that you don't think I can keep your mind off that man." Sam slipped his hands under G's t-shirt, ran his fingers through the soft hairs on his partner's chest and stroked and squeezed each nipple several times. G gasped. "It's working already. Success."

"Feels great."

"I'm good."

"Too good."

"Remember, I know every erogenous zone on your body."

"I keep forgetting about that two day massage."

"Two wonderful and mind-blowing days of massaging your responsive and sexy body."

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I need to eat before we romp in the hay."

"Is there a barn?"

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Get off me."

He leaped off the couch and offered G a hand. "I see the reason you're putting me off." Sam eyed the slight bulge in his partner's jeans and smirked. He drew G into a hug. "Can't wait to take you upstairs and make you into a s'more sandwich."

They walked into the kitchen and dished out two hefty servings of food and sat in the built-in kitchen nook to eat.

"I'd like a place such as this off our kitchen," G said without looking up from his plate.

"Me too," Sam said. "I took a tour of the house earlier while you slept. It has a few features I'd want in our house."

The next twenty minutes were filled with the sounds of them scarfing down their dinners and drinking their beers.

Thirty minutes later, G pushed his plate to the side and leaned back in his chair. "I can't stop thinking about one thing." He ogled his partner as Sam finished his dinner. G remembered back to the first time he wanted to touch Sam and wanted his partner to make love to him. They stood side by side in the OPS Center watching a surveillance video from one of their many cases. G kept taking the liberty of quick glances at his partner from the corner of his vision. That day Sam had worn one of his skin tight t-shirts in one of G's favorite shades of blue, midnight. The more he stole looks at his partner, the hornier he got until finally he had to excuse himself from the OPS Center. He grinned wide.

Sam savored his last bite of food and took a sip of beer. "Okay, I give."

"You."

"When?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it wasn't just now that you couldn't stop thinking about me."

"Okay, no," he said. "It was in the OPS Center just over a year ago."

"You mean the time you needed to excuse yourself in the middle of a discussion on a case?"

"Crap, you knew?"

"Yeah, I knew," Sam said. "I knew you couldn't keep your eyes off of me."

"Hell."

"I wore my sexiest and tightest midnight blue t-shirt just for you that day."

"Damn it."

"And I enjoyed every moment of your wandering eyes on me," Sam said. "In those few minutes, you confirmed what I knew was beginning to happen between us."

"You never let on that you knew I watched you."

"Ogled me, man."

"Yeah, I did," G said. "I couldn't stop ogling your sexy body."

"And?"

"Damn it, you're gonna make me say it, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"Make love to me."

"Is that what you wanted then?"

"Yeah," G said, sighing. "Now, take me upstairs and make love to me."

Sam scooted his chair back, stood, and drew G up into his arms. "I knew it."

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>"Is this what you wanted?" Sam asked, snuggling up to his lover and drawing him closer to his body under the soft, burgundy, Egyptian cotton sheets in the early morning hours.<p>

"Yeah, and more," G said. "I love you."

"I heard that over and over during our lovemaking."

"And I meant it, I love you."

"I know." Sam turned G over to face him. "I love you too and that was the best time I've had with you in bed."

"Why?"

"You were tender and attentive."

Tears filled his sapphire blue eyes.

"What are these about?" Sam brushed the tears out of the corners of his lover's eyes.

"I wanted to show you how much I love you just in case something—"

"Don't go there, man, I told you not to worry about this ops."

"Damn it, Sam, we're on our own."

"Never freaked you out before."

"I never had someone in my life I loved this much and now, everything is at stake," G said wrapping his arms around the back of Sam's neck and drawing him closer. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

"I told you not to go there, man." Tears welled up in the corners of Sam's eyes. "Crap." Sam pulled away from his lover and climbed off the bed. He entered the bathroom and splashed cool water on his face. After patting his face dry with a towel, he stared into the mirror for a few minutes. Sam turned to stand in the doorway. "Don't you think I'm having a hard time too? I'm trying to keep my head together over this breach and over our relationship at the same time. I've never been in love with anyone the way I'm in love with you."

G sat up in bed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did."

"Before this."

"And it would've made a difference?"

"I would've cut off all ties with you."

"Bull shit!" Sam sat at the foot of the bed.

"No, I would've done it for you."

"That's crap and you know it."

"Why are you saying that?"

"Because you couldn't stand one minute without me."

G laid back down and faced away from his lover.

"Oh no you don't, man," Sam said, grabbing his lover by the legs and dragging him down to the bottom of the bed. "Don't you dare turn away from me now. This discussion isn't over." He turned G over to face him and laid next to him. "Don't lie to yourself about this."

"Crap, what are we gonna do, Sam?" G asked. "I never thought being in a relationship with you would be like this. I've never felt this way about anyone. It scares the crap out of me."

"Me too, sweetheart, I know what you mean."

"You're good at hiding your feelings, stuffing them in a neat little box while you're on an ops."

"You too and you're point is?"

"Why can't we do that now?" G asked.

"I think I have an explanation for you."

"But there are times when we've gotten emotionally involved in an ops and can't step back from that," G said.

"Too many times." Sam sighed. "I think the most logical explanation is this," he said. "You survived three attempted murders and suffered severe injuries from one of those attempts. I survived one attempted murder."

"Sam, since when has love ever been logical?" G asked. "The worst for me is the stakes are higher than they've ever been. NCIS worldwide was breached by someone who's bent on destroying the lives of as many people as he can. He's bent on destroying my life. Finally, but not the least by far, we're in love with each other in ways neither one of us has ever experienced in their lifetime."

"Yeah, you've got a point there."

"I know what I have to do; not mix business and pleasure," G said.

"That's about as plausible as finding a desk in Macy's old office."

He sighed. "Damn."

"I think how we interacted yesterday was typical of how our relationship at work has changed."

"And that was okay with you?" G asked.

"I loved the new banter we have going," he said. "It's spicier and enticing. It makes me look forward to the end of the day when we'll be making love."

G rolled over onto Sam's body. "Good."

"Why?"

"I think you're right, I can't take the pleasure out of business nor the business out of pleasure." G planted a claiming kiss on his lover's mouth.

Sam pushed G onto his back and rolled on top of him. "I agree." He pressed his lover's arms above his head and kissed him hard on the lips forcing his tongue inside. "You're one hot and sexy man."

"Round two?" He tenderly kissed his lover on the mouth.

"I think you want a more tender lovemaking session this time."

"Make love to me, Sam."

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>"And this time?" Sam asked while caressing G's face.<p>

"Perfect." He faced his lover with his eyes closed.

"Good."

The sex was perfect. The relationship was everything he could possibly ever want. The man, damn, Sam was more than perfect. But the ops sucked big time. Now everything about his kidnapping in Costa Rica made perfect sense. G did not like this ops. He knew what he would have to do to his former team at the DEA; kill them all. He could not get his mind around that concept. They were his team. He could no sooner kill off his team at NCIS.

"G?"

"Yeah?"

"What's going on, man?"

"Nothing."

"Right, I know you too well, what's going on?"

"I'm thinking, is there a law against it?"

"For you yes, because thinking and worrying bear close resemblance to each other."

G opened his eyes and snuggled closer to Sam. "That's not fair, you know me too well."

"Haven't you ever heard the saying, all is fair in love and war?" Sam grinned wide.

"Maybe I should pop you one for that."

Sam rolled G onto his back. "You lost your chance." He laid on him lengthwise. "Let's change the pace. Go on an outing. Your choice."

"Me?"

"Yeah, be creative."

"Practical."

"Okay."

"I need some time at the firing range."

"You want to go to the firing range for our first date on the town?" Sam smirked.

"Damn, you're already teasing me about my choice," G said. "Obviously, it wasn't romantic enough for you." He winked at him.

"Let's go to the indoor one with the private lanes," Sam said. "First we need to buy some weapons."

"I think I know what type I want." He imagined lining up his whole DEA team and killing them execution style.

"Yeah, what?"

"Something that blows holes in people."

"Lethal."

"I want it over and done fast without any misses." His sapphire blue eyes misted up.

"I don't know what's going on inside that mind of yours," Sam said. "I hope you'll share it with me at some point."

"I think I need to see Hetty."

"Not possible except for an emergency."

"This is an emergency."

"Life or death?"

"No insanity." G cracked a wry smile.

"I guess it qualifies," Sam said. "First, let's try gun therapy."

"Gun therapy?"

"Yeah, you shoot several rounds of blanks at targets and that might ease your worries."

"And if it doesn't?"

"You can call her."

"Thanks Mom," G said dead pan.

Sam cupped his lover's face and kissed him hard. "Smart-ass."

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>This was the worst he remembered shooting in years. Every blank missed the target. "Damn it." G loaded his weapon with blanks again. Every time he focused on the target, he thought about the ops. Usually that gave him the ability to shoot and hit the target with perfect accuracy. Only this time when he thought about the ops, it had the opposite effect. G sighed and shook his head. He finished loading another round of blanks into his gun.<p>

Sam leaned over the top of his bunker wall. "Need help?"

"Now, how the hell are you gonna help me shoot straight?"

He stepped around the bunker wall and set his weapon on a nearby table. "I have ways to motivate you"

"You're beginning to sound like Darth Vader," G said. "He had ways to motivate people too." He smirked.

"But he never thought of my techniques," Sam said. "Get in your stance and hold your weapon as if you're ready to shoot." He came behind his partner and mimicked G's posture placing his hands and body around him.

"Okay, how the hell am I supposed to shoot when you're this close?"

"Just do it."

"The recoil is a bitch."

"I know that, not a problem, focus, keep steady." At the last moment, Sam slipped his hands down to G's groin.

He fired off a round and hit the target dead center. "What the hell are you trying to do?"

"Get you focused," he said. "Did you shoot better?"

"Yeah, I centered the target." It was exactly where he intended to shoot the target. Right below the heart.

"Okay, again."

"Wait, aren't you starting with your hands on mine?"

"Nope, plan B, ready, focus." At the exact moment G squeezed the trigger, Sam squeezed and caressed his partner's now stiffening member.

"Fuck, Sam!"

"Where?"

"What the hell are you trying to do to me, man?"

"Grope you while you're shooting," Sam said. "Is it working?"

"Damn it, how can I concentrate on shooting?"

"Did you make the shot?" He stepped backward.

"Crap, dead on again, this time between the eyes." G straightened and spun around to face Sam. He fired his weapon and it hit the exact spot where he had aimed his gun. "How the hell am I supposed to keep my concentration on my shooting when you're touching me like that?"

"That's the whole purpose of my techniques, keep your mind and body relaxed."

"I see." G was surprised it worked. Normally, he lacked the tolerance to have someone near him when he shot a weapon at NCIS's indoor firing range. He preferred to have no one in the firing range. He tolerated his partner's presence. Right now though, he could not shoot straight on his own. His mind was filled with a mix of conflicting emotions and thoughts about taking out his whole DEA team. The worst? Lethal force he needed to take against his former supervisor at the DEA. That man was twisted and evil in ways he never conceived a man could be.

Sam drew his partner into a hug. "Yeah, and get you ready for a christening."

"A what?"

"I decided to change up the game on a certain christening."

"What are you talking about?"

"Never mind, I'll show you later," Sam said. "Let's get back into the stance."

"So you can use my body while I'm shooting?"

"No, I want to play with it." He grinned wide.

"Damn."

Sam turned G away from him and drew him backward against his body. He pressed his partner's body into a shooting stance. "Ready?"

"This is highly irregular."

"And it works, right?" G sighed and readied his weapon. Sam rubbed his groin on his partner's buttocks. G panted and squeezed the trigger on his gun firing off a round.

"You did it again, man, right on the mark."

"And you're getting more obscene with each passing moment."

"I guess that means we'll have to take this outside."

"You've got an ulterior motive," G said.

"Several ulterior motives," he said. "Has anyone ever told you how sexy you are when firing a weapon?"

"What?"

"Sexy." Sam turned G around to face him. "Hot and sexy with a weapon in your hands."

"Whatever turns you on."

"You."

"How's this gonna work on an ops?"

"Don't know and don't care right now." He pulled him into a hug. "I'm hungry for your sexy body," Sam said, lowering his voice and sucking on G's earlobe.

"Sam!"

"Let's go christen something before I take you right here in the firing lane." He kept his voice low and sensuous.

"What's this christening you have in mind?"

"It's a surprise."

"I still need practice."

"Me too," he said. "Let's come back here tomorrow night."

"And you'll find new ways to motivate me?" G stepped back and faced the firing range. "I'm gonna finish the round in my gun."

"Sounds like a perfect plan." He surrounded his partner's body.

"Without your help this time." He sighed.

"Okay, but if you miss it's back to my way."

"There's a problem with your way."

"Yeah?"

"My pants are getting tighter by the minute," G said. "Soon I won't be able to walk out of here without you covering for me."

"I got that figured out, sweetheart, continue."

He prepared himself for his next shot. His body and mind focused on the target. Every nerve ending ready for the shot. He squeezed the trigger and fired off one blank. _Oh hell, not again. What is wrong with me?_ He shook his head in complete disgust. "Damn it, I can't believe this."

"I told you, man, you need to relax, you're too uptight."

"I hate this, it's so not like me to miss at the shooting range."

"You're thinking about the ops too much," Sam said.

"Never caused problems before when I thought about the ops while at the shooting range," G said. "I wonder why it is now. This is ridiculous." He shook his head again.

"Let's try it together again, ready." He wrapped his body around G's, surrounding his waist and resting his head near the back of his partner's neck.

"And I'm supposed to concentrate on this while you're breathing on my neck?" He sniggered.

"Don't concentrate, man, let it go, relax." He stuck out his tongue and swiped it across his partner's neck.

"Fuck, man, stop that." He shuddered from the sensations of his lover's tongue on one of his more sensitive spots.

"Squeeze the trigger, G." Sam sucked some skin into his mouth and released it at the same moment his partner fired the blank. "Nice, see, there you go again, perfect shot."

"And a perfect stiffened member in my pants." He pressed the front of his pants down.

Sam grabbed his hand and pulled it behind his back. "No, you don't, man, I need you stiff for when we leave."

"Someone's gonna see us before we leave."

"Nope, just us two back here in this part of the range," Sam said. "How many more blanks?"

"Two."

"Keep going."

"And you'll keep going."

"Yep, wouldn't miss this accuracy for the world." He wrapped his arms around G's waist.

"Now you're upping the ante again?"

"Yep, showing you how steady you can be when I'm close by you."

"Just don't slide them down into my pants."

"And why not?"

"Sam!" He released one of his not-so-pleased-with-his-lover sighs.

"I love when you get ornery." Sam licked G's neck and felt chills go down his lover's body. "Got to love these erogenous zones. Ready. Squeeze the trigger." Again, at the moment his partner squeezed and released the trigger, he slid his hands down into the front of G's pants.

"Fuck me."

"Okay, where?" Sam grinned wide.

"No, I can't believe this, right on the mark." The more Sam groped him, the better and more accurate he shot. It was the opposite of what G believed would happen when his partner and lover was this close. The fact was, Sam relaxed him.

"Yep, I'm right on the mark too."

"I'm gonna kill you, man."

"Really, I hope not because you'll need me on the ops with you."

"It's a figure of speech," G said. "I guess I'll need you to grope my body while I'm on the ops. Without you I'm toast."

"And with me, you're hot and sexy and a fine shot."

"This shouldn't be, distractions are supposed to be just that, distractions."

"You relax when I touch you and you tighten up when you start thinking about the ops," Sam said. "What are you telling yourself when you're doing it on your own?"

G closed his eyes and readied himself as if he were going to shoot. "I think about one thing, how I'm gonna have to shoot every member of my former team right between the eyes."

"No wonder you're uptight, man." Sam chuckled. "And with me?"

"I can't think of anything," G said. "Except how you're gonna do exactly what I think you're gonna do and stick your hands and mouth where I told you not to stick them."

"Yep."

"And it works, I'm relaxed, and at ease, and I point and shoot and I'm accurate."

"And why do you think that is?"

"I trust you and love you," G said. "I know whatever you're doing is for my best interest."

"Ah, yes."

"I can't believe this."

"Ready for your last blank?"

"Yeah, do whatever you want," he said. "And I'll just go with it."

"Ready. Set." Sam pulled his hands from the front of G's pants and pushed them into the back of his pant's groping and massaging his buttocks.

"That feels exquisite." He gasped, readied his weapon, pulled the trigger, and fired. The blank hit dead center in the target's groin.

"Is that an opinion about what I'm doing?" He snickered.

"No, a huge hint about what I want you to do." G chuckled.

"Damn, let's get out of here before I take you down right here in the lane and have my way with you."

In record time, they put away their weapons in their cases.

"We'll clean them at home." G locked his weapon's case.

"Good idea because we'll be too busy to do it now."

Sam wrapped his arm around G's waist and together they strode toward their rental car at the firing range's back parking lot. Before settling G in the passenger's seat, he gently pushed him against the car door, cupped his face in both of his sinewy, soft hands, and kissed his lover's lips. He trailed his tongue across G's jaw bone and suckled on his right earlobe zeroing his focus just below the ear on the most sensitive erogenous zone in his lover's upper body. "I want you," Sam whispered in his lowest and most sexiest tone. "Get in the backseat, man." He unbuckled G's belt and unzipped his pants before flipping his lover around to face the door. "Hurry, man, I need you in the biggest way." He drew him back against his body while his lover opened the passenger door. "I need you, man, got to have you." Before G could climb into the backseat, Sam slipped his hands into the back of his lover's pants and squeezed his buttocks. As he climbed into the backseat, Sam removed his midnight blue t-shirt and flung it into the front seat.

"You know this isn't our—"

Sam covered his lover's mouth with his own, pushing his tongue inside. "I decided to purchase it for us."

"Us?"

"Yeah, us."

"I thought you wanted the black metallic one."

He pulled G down on top of him. "I rather like the color of love, man, it's grown on me."

"We don't own this one."

"We do now."

"What?" His eyes widened.

"I called the rental company this morning and made an offer."

G grinned wide and straddled Sam's hips. "I like."

"I know, thank you for changing my mind on the color." Sam wrapped his arms around G's neck and drew him down to within inches of his face. "Take off your shirt."

"I want you to undress me."

He slid his hands under his lover's ocean blue t-shirt and ran his fingers through the soft, blond hairs on his chest. "You're hot and sexy." His fingers found G's now semi erect nipples and pinched them between a forefinger and thumb, eliciting gasps from his lover and gyrations from his lover's hips over his own. "Want me?"

"Damn it, yes, I wanted you on the firing range." He leaned over and kissed his lover trailing his tongue over his chin and down his neck to his smooth and soft chest, focusing his attention on Sam's extra sensitive nipples, suckling and tonguing and biting them. One of his lover's many erogenous zones and his spot was the man's right nipple. Without much attention, G easily tongued the nipple to a stiff, hard point. He knew when his lover could not take much more stimulation to this one area. Sam grabbed G's nipples and pinched them hard. Ah, the signal, 'uncle,' G moved onto less sensitive areas. He loved when his lover got rough with him to communicate what he needed him to do next.

"Take my pants down."

G glanced at him sideways.

"Yeah, I have a surprise for you and a change in plans for this christening." Sam removed G's ocean blue t-shirt. He had purchased twelve of them the other day when they had gone shopping for clothes. Sam bought them in a size smaller than his lover normally wore to accentuate every ripple of muscle and display them for his hungry eyes. A bare area was exposed just above his lover's belt line. Delicious. Sam licked his lips.

"Hungry?" G unbuckled and unzipped his lover's pants and pulled them down to his ankles.

"Yeah, for you," he said. "Move off me, that works." He rolled over onto his stomach.

"Wait, how's this gonna work?"

"I want you in me." He glanced over his shoulder.

G's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. Tears moistened his sapphire blue eyes.

"Hey, what are these about?" Sam reached up and brushed them away.

"We never, I mean, you and I, damn," he said. "I can't think or talk straight."

"I want us to remember the christening of _our_ _car_ as something special and that you and I will never forget."

G laid lengthwise on Sam's body. "I can't believe you're allowing me to do this." Tears fell on his lover's back. "I love you." He wrapped his arms around Sam's chest and snuggled close to him.

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><p># # #<p>

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><p>For the first time since his harrowing accident which nearly killed him, G got into the driver's seat. He sat frozen, unable to engage and start the red metallic Challenger.<p>

"And?" Sam eyed his lover.

He rested his arms and head on the steering wheel.

"What's going on, sweetheart?"

"I, nothing."

"You need to talk about the accident?" He asked.

G sighed. "Never crossed my mind to talk about it." He checked his seatbelt for the fifth time.

"It's on."

"Damn, I wish you didn't see me do that just now." He sighed.

Sam reached out and grasped G's right hand. "I understand."

"I don't think you do," he said, jerking away from his touch. "It's not like you think." An odd feeling crept upward from his gut. It was the ants-crawling-around-in-his-stomach sensation. He tried to stuff it back down inside. Nothing he attempted had worked. The feeling within his gut strengthened.

"You didn't enjoy our lovemaking?"

"Sam!"

"What?"

"It's not about our christening, okay, don't worry about that."

"You're okay with that?"

"Everything was… great." _I wish everything was great with me too. _

"Memory?" G opened the door and climbed out of the Challenger pacing next to the car. Sam rushed around to the passenger's side. "You okay?"

He stared at the parking lot's fading white lines. "Stop asking me questions."

"I can do that." He stepped up to his partner and placed an arm around his shoulders.

G shrugged his shoulders and shoved Sam's arm off of him. "Just stay the hell away from me." He backed up until the front fender was behind him. "Crap! I don't need this right now. I enjoyed our lovemaking and damn it, now this."

"Has happened before." He stayed by the passenger door.

"Yeah, but I want it to go away," he said.

"Let's go home, I'll drive if you want."

"I'm not getting into that fucking car!" He covered his mouth. G strode toward the street.

Sam followed, coming along side him. "Is this about the bomb?"

He stopped and stared at the asphalt parking lot. "Yeah, crap."

"Let me check the car out for you, okay?" He made an about face and strode back to the red metallic Challenger. After taking 30 minutes to look for a possible bomb, he stood against the passenger door, arms crossed waiting for his lover to come over to him.

G plodded over to the car and stepped up to Sam, keeping his eyes averted over the man's left shoulder. His entire body felt as if he was hooked up to one of those bed vibrating machines. The odd feeling in his body was not the pleasant ones that the machine gave to those lying on it. The sensation in his body was a cross between an electric shock and a constant shudder.

"I found nothing." Sam opened his arms. "A hug?"

He fell into his lover's arms, his face stained with tears. "Hold me tight, I'm sorry I freaked out on you."

"Not a problem, sweetheart," he said in his most tender voice. "Want me to drive?"

"No." G wrapped his arms around Sam's neck pulling himself closer to him, still shaking and shuddering.

"You cold?"

"No."

Sam drew G tighter against his body. "You're safe."

"I'm having flashbacks and I can't shut them down."

"Don't even try, sweetheart, let them emerge."

"Memories too and I don't like what I'm seeing, hearing, and feeling." He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his lover's chest attempting to push away the flashes of pictures. His former supervisor. G's DEA interview. The strange questions asked by his former supervisor, as if the man was searching for specific answers with the goal to develop an elite undercover team. The interview reminded G of the one Hetty had conducted at the initial job interview for the position at NCIS. But there was one huge difference. His supervisor at the DEA had interrogated him. He grilled him for over three hours. G was not hired yet and he felt as if he had worked at the DEA for years. That man kept probing into G's foster home experiences. His questions were relentless. G left the interview room not remembering half of what happened and feeling as if he had been mind-fucked. Days passed before he could shake the feeling of being violated.

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><p>Thanks for reading.<p> 


	13. Born to Be Wild, Ch 12

I am posting this chapter as well. I am one day behind in posting and this chapter catches up and puts me back on my projected path.

Thanks for the reviews and reading my story.

I love, love, love reviews.

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><p><strong>Title: Rogue Agents<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

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><p><strong>Born to Be Wild<strong>

**Chapter 12**

"I got the perfect theme song for you," Sam said, turning over in bed and cuddling up to his lover.

G inched backward into Sam wanting closer skin contact. "What?"

"Born to Be Wild."

He glanced over his shoulder. "I think you have the wrong song, man," he said. "I've lost that intensity I've had for so long."

"Yeah, because I judged you too much."

"I was reckless and a rogue agent and expected you to rescue me."

"I was wrong to judge you."

G rolled over onto his back. "I was dangerous and now I'm afraid to be that dangerous after three attempts on my life." And afraid to piss off Sam with going rogue. He knew his partner hated it when he went off without informing him and allowing contact. Yet at times he needed to go rogue. His partner failed to understand the things he pursued.

"I know and that's what it takes for you to be successful on this ops," Sam said. "You must return to your natural bent. You were 'born to be wild.'"

"You mean born to go rogue."

"Yeah, going rogue is your natural bent as an agent."

"My what?"

"Remember you once said that if I was a natural born agent, you were a supernatural born agent?"

"Yeah, I remember that."

"Well, I do believe you are a supernatural born agent."

"Come on, man, I was joking with you."

"You're a legend NCIS agent with expertise in going rogue." G sighed and turned back to his side. Sam rolled him onto his back again. "Listen to me—"

"To your cockamamie idea."

"You shouldn't use cock when referring to my ideas." Sam grinned wide.

"That's gonna cost _you_." G smirked.

He leaned over and planted a light kiss on his lover's lips. "Seriously, man, you need to hear me out."

"So you can fill my head with bullshit?"

"While you slept I downloaded a copy of Steppenwolf's song, 'Born to Be Wild,' onto our iPad2."

"And you'll force me to listen to it on the plane and in the car and on our way to the ops?"

"Yep."

"I always liked the song, but it never quite fit."

"What doesn't fit?"

"It's about _two_ people going on an adventure."

"Ah, I see, true, and now?"

G wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and drew him closer. "And now, I guess I don't have an excuse any more."

"Guess?" He cupped his lover's face in both hands and kissed him again.

"Okay, I'm certain." He grinned wide.

"I'll refrain from making snide remarks about you going rogue," Sam said. "In exchange, you'll up your game and get back into your mind set."

"You make it sound so simple, but it's not." G turned back to his side and inched backward into Sam. "I got a different problem now."

"You always had a problem, because of your childhood."

"And you're saying this because?"

"Use your current memories and flashbacks as you used your childhood memories and flashbacks to empower you."

"How?"

"To help you discover the truth about what happened to you, and go after these bastards who attempted to murder you."

"Sounds easy enough." G's forehead creased with deep lines and his eyebrows furrowed.

"I know that look, man," Sam said, surrounding his lover's chest with an arm. "Only this time, we're going on that adventure together. You're not alone."

"In the end though, I'll have to confront the bastard myself."

"Yeah, and I'll stand by your side."

"And hold my hand?"

"If you want me to do that I will." He smirked.

"I could just see us on an ops with you holding my hand as I confront a perpetrator or a killer." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

"That look I like."

G turned onto his back again. "And what about the emergence of these damned memories?" He asked. "They don't exactly notify you when they're about to come to the surface."

"One day at a time, sweetheart," Sam said. "How about this evening we practice at the firing range again?"

"If you want something just ask." G smirked.

"No, seriously, man, we need to get in more hours at the firing range."

"And you need to get in more hours on me afterward?"

"If you want something just ask." The corners of Sam's mouth turned upward.

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><p># # #<p>

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><p>G was thinking of only one thing on the way to the firing range: How to kill the son-of-a-bitch who was his supervisor. The problem was the more he thought about him, the more he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. After twenty minutes of intense focus on that man, he was oversteering.<p>

"Hey, sweetheart, you need to relax." Sam reached over and stroked his partner's thigh.

He startled and swerved. "Damn it, I wasn't expecting that."

"Did you hear what I told you?"

G tilted his head.

"I guess not, relax, man, you're uptight again."

He sighed long and deep and slumped back in his seat relaxing his hands on the steering wheel. Here comes another night of overshooting too. Screw this! _I oversteer and I overshoot. I need to relax and let go as I did before when I used go rogue on Sam and he hated me doing it._

"G?"

Crap._ I almost missed the firing range's parking lot._ He turned sharp into the parking lot and overshot the driveway. He ran over the curb.

"Maybe I should drive, sweetheart."

G shot him a look. That damned song glared on the car's sound system and that didn't help him focus on driving either. Born to Be Wild. That he was and right now he hated that part of himself. In the past, it had created distance between Sam and him. He needed to make peace within, before he could accept that song as his 'go get 'em song.'

"You plan to turn off the engine any time soon?"

"Backseat driver." He turned off the ignition and shot his partner another look, this time with an added wry smile.

Sam and G climbed out of the Challenger and grabbed their gun cases from the trunk.

"I hope this time you can keep your hands to yourself and stay in your own firing lane."

Sam wrapped an arm around G's waist and slid his hand down over his lover's buttocks and gave them a squeeze. "And miss the chance to ogle and grope you while you shoot your gun."

"You need practice."

"Yeah, you said it, I need practice ogling and groping your available hot and sexy body." He squeezed G's buttocks again and released them. He chuckled.

"Me and my big mouth," he said. "You know what I meant."

"And those soft, luscious lips."

"Crap."

Sam moved his hand up to the small of G's back and pressed him forward toward the check-in counter. "Another night time rendezvous with my sweetheart," he whispered into his ear, licking and sucking on his lover's earlobe.

"Sam!" Shivers traveled up and down his spine while he attempted to concentrate on the check-in.

"You know you like it, man, so stop fighting it." He lowered his voice more and nibbled on his lover's earlobe. G finished signing them both into the firing range and quickened his pace toward his firing lane. Sam matched his lover's pace stride for stride coming along side him as he reached the last two firing lanes. He purposely bumped into the back of his lover pushing him toward the dividing bunker wall between their firing lanes. "I'm gonna have my way with you." Sam set his gun case on the ground next the bunker wall.

"Damn it, and how I'm supposed to keep my focus on what I'm doing?"

Sam took G's gun case and set it on the other side of his lover. "You're not, man, I'm hereby releasing you from any focus on anything but me." He licked and nibbled on his lover's earlobe.

"Didn't we come here to shoot?"

"Yep." He wrapped an arm around G's waist and unbuckled his lover's belt with his free hand.

"Sam, what the hell—"

"Easy, man, and enjoy yourself, I'll have you relaxed in no time." He unzipped his lover's pants.

He sighed. "You know this wouldn't work on an ops."

"Sure it would, but we'd need to find a private spot." He slid his hands into his lover's pants. "Yeah, just how I like you to dress, no boxers. Thought I had something planned for after the firing range?"

G gasped. "A guy can always hope."

"I figure in a couple of minutes you'll be relaxed enough to fire without missing."

"Can we skip this part?" He panted, getting closer to releasing a load.

Sam nibbled on his lover's earlobe and breathed in his ear.

"Damn it, you know that does it to me every time." He shoved his groin into his lover's hands. "Please, damn it…" G grabbed the bunker and panted. Shivers traveled up and down his spine.

"You want it now, don't you?" He asked, keeping his voice low and sensuous. "You ready?"

"Stop teasing me."

Sam pumped his lover's stiff member once more and released his hands. G started to yell his lover's name. Sam quickly covered his mouth. "You don't want anyone else to know you're shooting." He chuckled and removed his hand.

"Damn." G leaned against his lover and relaxed in his arms.

"Ready to shoot your gun now?"

"I just did." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

"Smart-ass."

G zipped up his jeans and buckled his belt. "Now I have the inevitable wet spot," he said. "Thankfully not on my own pants."

"They hose this area down after we leave."

"Maybe we're not the only ones shooting something other than a loaded and licensed weapon." He chuckled. G lifted his gun case off the ground and set it on the table. "Time for some other type of shooting." He removed his gun from the case and filled it with blanks.

Sam set his gun case on a table in his firing lane and removed his gun and loaded it. "Need any help just yell."

"Only if you plan to take it all the way." G snickered.

"Playing nasty now?"

"Nope, playing hard to get." He chuckled.

"I like that in a man, hard and hard to get."

"Sam, just practice, okay."

"And who said I wasn't practicing a few minutes ago?" He stepped up to the line and readied his weapon.

"Damn, a one track mind." G positioned his body and aimed his weapon.

"Ready, on three," Sam said.

"One."

"Two."

"Three," G said, firing his first shot. A perfect hit in the center of the unsub's heart. Sam fired too, hitting his target dead on in the groin. "A groin shot?" G asked.

"Yeah, I'm preparing myself for what is to come."

"That's rude." G leaned over the bunker wall inviting his lover to kiss him.

"And effective." Sam grasped his lover's face and kissed him tenderly on his extra soft lips. "Hot and sexy."

They separated and positioned themselves for their next shots.

"Ready, on three," G said.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>He awakened from one of his most harrowing nightmares in the last month and climbed out of bed. After staggering for several minutes from the disorienting effects of the nightmare, G regained his balance and grabbed an aqua colored, cotton blanket off the bed wrapping it around his sweaty, naked body. He entered the closet and hid in the far corner rocking himself with his arms wrapped around his drawn up knees. A high pitched keening sound escaped his lips as flashbacks ripped through the recesses of his mind, sending him back to the moment when his supervisor, Brad Gowan, had first raped him. G now knew his name. For some reason, he had blocked out his supervisor's name until this memory. His rocking increased to a fever pitch causing him to fall to his side and curling into a fetal position on the dark teal carpet. He failed to notice his lover's presence.<p>

Sam wrapped his arms around G's chest and brought him back into his body as he cocooned himself around his lover's body. He wrapped the blanket around them both and rocked his lover in his arms until the keening came to an end.

"Sam?" He asked over an hour later.

"Yeah, I'm here, sweetheart."

"I need you to pick me up and hold me."

"On my lap?"

"No, I need, oh crap, I need you to rock me in your arms while you carry me."

Sam stood and helped G off the carpet. He lifted him into his arms and rocked him. "Good?"

"Perfect." He laid his head on his lover's chest and closed his eyes. "There is no Twayne Gowan. Don't know why I made up that name. Doesn't make sense. I didn't remember my perpetrator's name until this horrible nightmare and I don't know why. He was my supervisor. I didn't remember his damned name."

"Don't push yourself to remember why and understand all this," he said. "The brain does strange things to protect us when we're traumatized."

"Can you cuddle with me on the bed, I need to get warm."

"How about a hot bath?"

G pulled away from Sam, arching his back as if he were a small child trying to free himself from an adult's arms. "Shit!"

"Hey, calm—"

"Put me down, damn it, put me down." He whimpered.

Sam lowered his lover onto the bed.

"Crap!" He curled into a fetal position again, grabbing at his knees and struggling to pull them closer to his chest. A keening sound pierced the air as if it were a fierce, howling Santa Ana wind penetrating and dividing canyon walls. G wrapped his arms tight around his drawn up knees and rocked himself.

Sam stared down at his lover's distressed body for less than a minute. He grabbed the aqua blanket off the closet floor and draped it over G's naked body. Next, he increased the heat in the bedroom. Afterward, he settled at the head of the bed, giving his lover plenty of space and privacy at the foot of the bed.

More than an hour passed before G stirred and relaxed his body, stretching and releasing the kinks in his neck and lower back. He rolled over to his left side and noticed Sam dozing at the head of the bed. G crawled up to him, pulling the blanket with him and snuggling into his lover's side. "Please cuddle me," he said, keeping his voice low. He shivered, fearing what might come next.

Sam wrapped his arm around G's shoulders and brought him closer into his side. "I'm here if you need to talk," he said. "And I'm sorry if I triggered you."

"He, crap," he said, shivering and shaking, "used to make me take a hot bath with him. Remember I told you about it."

"Yeah, I remember and you don't have to do anything with me, sweetheart." Sam kissed the top of his head.

"I know, crap, but the memory it's all mixed up with here and now and then and some other place."

"Costa Rica?"

"Yeah, oh crap, yeah, that place." He shuddered hard with a flashback of Brad forcing him into the bathtub with him. "He raped me before, oh crap, I can't talk about this."

"Then don't, sweetheart, there's no pressure." He kissed his head again.

"He wasn't like you, Sam," G said. "He never allowed me to have any sexual release. It was only about him." He buried his face in Sam's chest, tears freely falling down his cheeks and onto his lover's smooth, chocolate brown skin.

"I love you," he said, stroking and caressing G's shoulders.

He raised his head. "I know and I feel it."

"I'm sorry that bastard put you through anything at all," Sam said. "You didn't deserve it." With his free hand, he brushed the tears from his lover's eyes.

"Make love to me."

"I don't know if—"

"I need to know it's you."

"I understand, but I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't, Sam, please, I need you." G wrapped his right arm around his lover's waist. "I need to smell you and know you are here not him."

Sam raised his lover's face until their lips were close and leaned over to give him the most tender kiss ever.

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><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>G entered the family room off the kitchen. His jaw dropped and he stopped moving forward. "You've got to be kidding."<p>

Sam bumped into him. "You should at least warn me next time you plan to make an abrupt stop."

He cocked his head sideways.

"Well, you stopped."

"Is this what I think it is?"

"Call it an icebreaker."

"A what?"

"A conversation starter?"

"I call it childish."

"Fun?"

G crossed his arms and refused to go near the setup on the floor in front of the fireplace.

"It won't bite, I promise."

"And the purpose of this… game?"

"Ultimately?"

"Ah, I see, you have several purposes lined up."

Sam sighed. "I thought you would enjoy this as a change of pace from our usual conversations about what happened with your supervisor, Brad Gowan."

G sighed and shook his head.

"No?"

"I'm glad I got dressed as you suggested."

"I'm glad you didn't put much on."

"Damn it."

"Let's sit down." Sam sat cross-legged on the beige wool blend carpet on one side of the game's setup. "Sit opposite me."

"I…"

"Still resisting my creative endeavors."

"This is not a creative endeavor."

Sam pushed his lower lip forward.

"You're pouting?" G sat cross-legged on the carpet across from Sam and examined the game's setup. Two omelettes at the ten and two positions, two cards with the word 'share' at the eight and four positions, and Sam and him at the twelve and six positions. One upright beer bottle in the middle.

"Do I need to explain the game?"

"I've played enough times."

"Really, when did you kiss your first girl?"

"Sam!" He crossed his arms again.

"Okay, but have you played by my rules?"

"I should've known there was a catch."

"Loser gets it all on the blanket over there by the fire."

"It all?"

"An hour long sensuous massage and lovemaking session."

G eyed the blanket and massage oil sitting next to it. "I like those rules so far and the rest?"

"Ah, you know me so well," Sam said, a wide grin spreading over his face. "You spin the bottle and receive what each spot has to offer."

"Share?"

"Yeah, you share something about what you're remembering."

"Only me?"

"Yep."

"Kind of lopsided."

"Kind of?" Sam snickered.

"Damn," G said. "Anything else I should know about?"

"An item of clothing is lost on each share spot."

"Wait one damned minute," he said. "You don't lose any clothes then."

"Nope."

"And you call this a fair game of spin-the-bottle?"

"It's spin-the-bottle by my rules."

"Wasn't the original about kissing the person to whom the bottle neck points on stopping?"

"Yep."

"Damn it, you've got me no matter where I land."

"Except on the omelette which you need for nourishment."

"This game is stacked in your favor."

"Yep."

"Can you say anything else?"

"I love how those ocean blue t-shirts look on your sexy body."

G's jaw dropped.

"Shall we begin?"

"Who's first?"

"You, sweetheart," Sam said in his more seductive voice.

G grabbed the bottle, laid it on its side, and gave it a hard spin hoping it landed on an omelette or his partner. The odds were against him getting a bite of omelette. He watched the bottle slow and stop at an omelette and breathed out a huge sigh of relief. G picked up the fork.

"It's not that easy." Sam took the fork from his partner and placed a bite of omelette on it. "Open wide." He leaned over the playing field and fed his partner. "Good?"

He finished chewing the piece of egg dish and swallowed it. "Excellent as always."

Sam picked up the bottle and rubbed it with both hands. "Land on 'share.'"

G shot him a look. "I hope no genie is coming out of that bottle," he said, "and granting you your wish."

"Where's your sense of humor?"

"Out the proverbial window."

He laid the bottle on its side and spun it hard. Both men watched as it slowed, each one hoping for it to land on their favorite spot. "Ah, perfect, you feed me some omelette."

G took the fork and sliced off a piece of omelette and placed it in his own mouth and leaned over the playing field. With his mouth, he passed it to his partner and finished with a kiss. After his partner had chewed and swallowed the omelette, G wrapped his arms around the back of Sam's neck and kissed him again.

"Now, there you go changing the rules." He smirked.

"You said I need to practice going rogue." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

"Damn you're good," he said. "If you're this good on the ops we should have no worries."

"If only I could be this innovative." The lines in his forehead creased.

"You've always been creative and innovative," Sam said. "That's what makes you a supernatural operator."

G sat back down and spun the bottle. He cringed when it landed on a 'share' spot.

"One item of clothing."

He removed one slipper.

Sam shook his head.

"Well."

"Thought you'd be more brazen and remove your sexy t-shirt."

"Now I need to share." He chose the first thing which popped into his mind. "Brad Gowan taught me how to go rogue. He's the best teacher I've ever had on the practice of going rogue. I'm thankful for his instruction and encouragement."

Sam's jaw dropped.

"Shocker?"

"I never expected this."

"And now I hate it."

"Hate it?"

G stood up and strode over to the fireplace. He stared at the orange and yellow flames shooting up from the logs. Sam came along side him and wrapped an arm around his partner's waist. "Yeah, I'm ambivalent about what I learned from him and that I learned it from him."

"But you just said—"

"I know what I just said, and it's how I felt for years," he said. "But now, with us and our relationship and this ops, I just don't know any more. And too, now that I've remembered what Brad did to me, it changes everything about what he taught me."

"It changes nothing."

G jerked away from Sam and stepped sideways to one end of the fireplace. "Damn it, it does!"

"Come on, man, what does it change?"

"Before I did it and it didn't matter about the people around me."

"And now it does?"

"Yeah, I love you, and I don't want to hurt you."

"Wait a minute, who says you're hurting me by going rogue?"

"Hetty, for one."

"She told you that?"

"Not exactly, but she might as well have."

"Because she told you it is _your_ team."

"Yeah, and I shouldn't abandon them for my own needs."

"That's true."

"See, going rogue hurts people."

"If you go rogue and pursue a case on your own without backup, that hurts your team and it's dangerous."

"And that's what I've always done, that's what he taught me to do." He sighed.

"I see your concern, man, but this is different," Sam said. "This time Hetty has asked you to go rogue."

G started to walk toward the hallway and Sam came along side him. "I can't play this stupid game any more."

"Which one?"

"Damn it, neither one of these stupid games, there's too much at risk." He plodded out of the family room heading toward the bedroom.

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><p>Thanks for reading my story.<p> 


	14. Spin The Bottle, Ch 13

****Thank you for the reviews. I love to receive reviews.

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Rogue Agents<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Spin-The-Bottle<strong>

**Chapter 13**

G sulked on the back deck near the kidney-shaped pool, refusing to speak with Sam. After several hours, he entered the kitchen to get something to eat and found his partner making a sandwich. In silence G made himself a sandwich and brought it out to the kitchen nook to eat at the built-in table.

Sam chose to eat in the dining room.

G loathed the distant he had created between Sam and him. He needed the closeness of his partner during this tumultuous time. Damn it. He picked up his plate and milk and strode into the dining room, sitting across from him.

"I love when you get angry."

"What?" He raised his head and glanced across the oval-shaped, dark oak, dining room table.

"You're sexy." Sam licked his lips.

Damn it. _He knows I'm needy and he is playing with my physical desires again. Sam was not Brad Gowan. Sometimes the lines blurred for him._

"Glad I bought you a dozen of those tight t-shirts."

"Crap!" G shot off his chair. "Do you have to act this way?"

"What way?"

"Ogling me, you know what you're doing."

"Ah the ogle, the quintessential mark of the insatiable lover."

"What the?" G slowly sat back down in his chair.

"Obviously, you've got a problem with me being in love with your sexy body."

"No." He sighed. "I'm angry about the… that game."

"And?"

"What makes you think there's something else?"

"With you, man, there always is."

G scowled at him.

"See, there it is."

He shot off his chair again, pulled the burn phone out of his back pocket, and started to dial a number.

"Remember, if you call her you'll need to destroy that phone."

"Screw you, bastard!" He dialed the number and left the room. "I've had it, Hetty, no more."

"Mr. Callen, I assume by this call that this is an emergency or that you two are ready to embark on your ops."

"Oh hell."

"I don't expect contact with you for any other reason," she said. "I thought I made that clear in your instructions left on the dining room table."

Crap. "I've got a problem, and I don't know how to, damn it, don't know how to reconcile it."

"Sam and you should be hashing out problems—"

"Hetty, no, listen to me, I can't do this ops, and don't ask me why, it's not happening and that's final." He paced the area in front of the fireplace, stopping every so often to stare into the embers.

"Mr. Callen, you have your orders," she said. "I fully expect you to carry them through to the end, whatever that might be for you."

Damn it. "I'm not coping with this."

"What part?"

"Part?"

"Yes, is it the memories?"

_Gees, who does not know what I am going through. She must know through the files on my computer. Damn that computer. I should have never kept those files on there._

"Mr. Callen?"

"Yes, Hetty."

"Your instructions are to work through your memories with Mr. Hanna."

"You don't understand." _No one seems to understand my dilemma._ "How can I be sure he can't, crap, I can't even say this, I don't know how to say it?"

"Mind control and brainwashing issues, Mr. Callen?"

_She does this again and again. Reads my mind with accuracy. _"Yes."

"The more that is shared and dealt with, the less ammunition he'll have to use against you," Hetty said. "Do you have a name for me?"

_There she is again, reading my mind. _"Brad Gowan."

"Any relation to Twayne Gowan?"

"There is no Twayne, it's Brad."

"I hope you have an explanation for when we next meet."

"Mind control."

"Good-bye, Mr. Callen, the next time I hear from you I expect it to be news of you two starting your ops."

Before he could answer her back, the burn phone went dead. He pulled out the smart card and bent it into several pieces. Afterward, he threw them into the dying embers in the fireplace. _Screw this all._ G plopped down on the crimson couch and stared across the room.

Sam entered the kitchen with his plate and drink and put them in the dishwasher. With his hands resting on the red and white tiled countertop, he watched his partner for several minutes. "What did she say?"

"I'm screwed."

"She literally told you that?"

"Not in those exact words." He crossed his arms and leaned back into the cushions.

Sam plopped down on the opposite end of the couch. "If you want to talk I'm—"

"I'd like to scrap this ops," G said. "She won't let me out of it. I don't get it. She won't allow me to investigate when I got burned before. Yet she encouraged me to do this. It doesn't make sense."

"The circumstances are different."

"Good excuse."

"Put you feet over here and let me give you a foot massage."

"So you can seduce me?"

"Relax you, man, you're uptight." G decided to take his partner up on his offer and stretched out on the couch. Sam slid over and lifted his partner's feet onto his lap. He removed the left foot's sock and athletic cross trainer and massaged the bottom of his foot.

G sighed long and deep and relaxed into the leather couch. "You're right, I'm uptight," he said. "Feels great."

"And?"

"I have to tell you about the memories," he said, sighing. "And I don't want to do that."

"Why?"

"It brings up ambivalent feelings which I don't know how to deal with."

Sam massaged between G's toes which elicited a deep moan from his partner. "Your ambivalence about Brad Gowan teaching you about rogue operations and you liking and hating that."

"For one."

"Didn't know there was much more."

Too much more than he cared to share. At some point, G needed to engage himself in the ops. After his phone call to Hetty, he knew backing out of this ops was not an option. She expected him to lead Sam to find Brad Gowan and deal with him any manner he saw fit. Many dilemmas plagued G's mind day and night. If he did not talk about them soon, he felt as if a bomb the size of the one which blew Sam's Challenger 20 feet into the air would explode within him.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>G dressed in multiple layers of clothes.<p>

"If you're trying to hide your body from me, good luck with that," Sam said. "I'll find you under all those clothes."

He ignored Sam's comments and strode toward the family room and the game he decided was the least noxious way to talk about the memories. G sat down cross-legged at his spot in the circle and waited for his partner.

"Ah, you're ready for my favorite game, spin-the-bottle-and-make-G-confess-his-deepest-secrets."

He shot Sam a dirty look.

"Not happy with the situation?" He asked.

"It's better this way."

"But what's with the garb?"

"Just stuff it, man, and let's play."

"Time to change the rules to accommodate your excessive habit." He sniggered.

G's eyes widened as he watched his partner change the configuration of the game. "That's not fair."

Sam added two more 'share' cards where the omelettes had sat. "Who said I'm playing fair, man." He placed their two banana splits in the nine and three positions.

"I'm not doing this." G stood and started for the hallway.

Sam tackled his partner a few steps shy of the hallway. They tumbled to the carpet and wrestled until Sam had the upper hand, pushing G onto his back. "Escape artist."

"Damn it, you can't change it just because you want to," G said. "That's not fair. Screw you!"

"Oh, I love when you get angry, so hot and sexy," he said. "And probably would make for some steamy sex."

"Fuck you!"

"I'd like to." Sam laid on him lengthwise, shoving his partner's hands above his head. "Now, what's with the multiple layers of clothes?" He asked, inching closer to G's face.

"Ulterior motives."

"Is that how you're playing this?" He planted a hard kiss on his partner's lips and forced his tongue inside his mouth. Sam secured his partner's hands above his head with his left hand, and slipped his right hand under G's three layers of sweatshirts and t-shirts playing with the hairs on his chest.

G twisted and turned under Sam, trying to get free. "Stop this, man," he said, breathless after their passionate kissing.

"Stop getting you turned on and ready for our game." Sam rubbed and pinched his partner's right nipple. G writhed beneath him. "Yeah, now I'm getting a reaction." He switched over to his partner's left nipple.

He gasped and writhed. "Damn it, stop."

"Say it, give me the satisfaction and say it."

He shook his head.

"Stubborn, Mr. Houdini." He trailed his hand through the soft hairs on his partner's chest and finished with brushing across both nipples bringing them to hard points.

G writhed and panted. "Fuck!"

"And?"

"Damn you," he said, panting and squirming. "I wanted it the first way, just change it back and I'll tell you why."

"Nope, not happening."

"Asshole!"

"Foul mouth tonight."

G sighed. "I'm trying to, crap, I want to share more so I thought layers would work better."

"Why didn't you just tell me, man?"

"Why do I have to tell you?"

"That's fair, you shouldn't have to tell me everything." Sam released G's hands and rolled off of him.

He climbed on top of his partner and pushed him onto his back, straddling his waist and punching him in the chest. "Bastard!"

Sam grabbed his partner's wrists and held them. "What's with this crap?"

"You, damn it, I'm pissed at you."

"More like you're pissed with Hetty."

"No!" He jerked his arms backward trying to release them.

"Forget it, it's not happening, man." Sam rolled G over onto his back again and held his wrists beside his head while straddling his hips.

"Bastard!"

"What's with you tonight?"

"You." He spat out.

"I'm not buying that."

G released a long sigh.

"That's it relax, because we're not done," Sam said. "I'm not releasing you until you confess."

"Confess?"

"Yeah, what's really going on, man?"

"I wanted off this ops."

"You said that." Sam sighed. "Hetty won't give you the satisfaction."

"No."

"And?"

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"There's got to be more to get you this angry."

G sighed and averted his eyes to the ceiling. "Only one way to deal with my memories and it's sharing and that sucks," he said. "And to go on this ops, I need to share those memories or risk problems I'm not willing to have happen."

"Care to share?"

"Afraid Brad will try to control me."

"You mean use mind control or brainwashing to control you."

"Yeah."

"And Hetty gave you an answer for your problems you don't like."

"Yeah, share," he said. "Damned if I do, damned if I don't."

Sam released G's wrists and slid off him. "Let's go play and I'll return the game back to its original configuration." He stood and offered his partner a hand up and then pulled him into a hug. "I wish you would've told me about this before you got radical on me."

"Me?" He asked, pointing to his chest. "What about you?"

"You didn't like me wrestling you to the floor and groping your sexy body?"

G sighed. "Okay, you've got me there" he said. "I do like it when you play rough. I also enjoy and appreciate gentle lovemaking."

"Yeah, you do."

G sat down at his spot on the carpet and waited for his partner to sit. "I'm spinning it first."

"Be my guest," Sam said, gesturing with his hand and sitting across from his partner. He removed the extra 'share' cards.

He spun the beer bottle and the neck pointed at a 'share' card. G swallowed hard, removed his first sweatshirt, and thought about which memory to reveal.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>After three hours of spin-the-bottle, Sam finally got his wish: G naked and lying next to him on the blanket in front of the fire. "How's the massage feel?"<p>

He moaned and groaned.

"That's a good enough answer for me," he said. "Turn over and let me get your back."

"I'm fine with just this." He yawned and stretched for the second time.

"Mind telling what's going on, man."

G opened his eyes and half-turned toward where Sam sat in front of the rough marble fireplace. "The last part triggered me and I'm not interested in exposing myself in that way."

"That was an intense memory about that slab of wood."

"There's more to that memory." G sighed. "I'm not ready to share it."

Sam replaced the cap on the massage oil, set it aside, and reclined next to his lover. He wrapped an arm around his waist. "No pressure, sweetheart." He tenderly kissed G on the mouth and laid back down next to him. "Want to try out the last bedroom?" They had managed to use all but one of the five bedrooms.

"Maybe later on."

"Okay, you're stalling now, talk to me."

"I'm just, crap," he said, squeezing his eyes shut. "Triggered."

Sam drew him closer. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried, man, but you weren't getting it." G rolled onto his side and wrapped his arm around his lover's waist snuggling into him and shuddering.

Sam pulled the blanket over them both. "We good or do you want me to hold you in bed?"

"Here." He shivered hard, flashbacks attacking his defenses and threatening to shatter them. "Please, make it go away." He squeezed his eyes shut again and cringed, crossing his right leg over his lover's legs and pulling himself closer to him. "I can't do this any more. I need to stop."

"We're done, sweetheart."

"No, not that, everything."

"Everything?" Sam asked. "You mean the ops?"

"Yeah, everything."

"You talked to Hetty and she said you couldn't quit."

"So?"

"Come on, man, you need to follow through with this ops."

G buried his face in his lover's chest hiding the tears now forming in the corners of his eyes.

Sam raised his lover's chin and gazed into his eyes. "You need to tell me what's going on."

"Don't know."

"Come on, you do, you just don't want to tell me." G rolled off of Sam and turned to face the kitchen. Sam drew him back into his body and tightened his hold around his lover's waist. "Is this about the mind control?" G nodded. "I told you not to worry about it. You've worked through enough of those memories."

"I can't help but think Brad can manipulate me, making me do something I don't want to do."

"I'll be right there with you."

"And you think that will stop him?" G asked. "Don't think so."

"Maybe there is something he made you do which you don't remember."

"Don't know, and that's what scares me," he said. "What if I see him and suddenly react to the programming he initiated years ago? I won't be able to stop him from indoctrinating me again. Plus I don't remember what happened at the glass shop and there's still no intel on that." Nobody knows what happened at the glass shop. No intel from Eric. No intel from Nell. And no intel from Hetty. _Ten hours of my life are missing No one can tell me what happened during those hours. Now Hetty wants me to track down and confront the man who could very well drag me back into a situation I could not cope with._ _Maybe Sam is right, this is about something more sinister than a man abusing me._

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>Sam awakened to the sounds of his partner packing his gear on the fifth bedroom's closet floor. He climbed out of bed and sat on the floor next to him. "I said this could wait until later on this evening."<p>

"Yeah."

Sam wrestled his lover backward onto the burgundy toned carpet and half laid on him. "Is that all you have to say to me?"

"Yeah." His eyebrows furrowed, almost touching.

"Come on, man, you need to relax."

"Can't sleep and this relaxes me, preparing for our ops," G said.

"How long did you sleep last night?"

"I didn't."

"How about a massage?"

"What if you're right about this guy?"

"What?" Sam glanced at him sideways.

"About it being something more sinister." This was G's worst nightmare for an ops. He did not know his enemy's intentions. The man had toyed with his body, toyed with his emotions, and toyed with his mind. The odds were stacked against him emotionally, mentally, and physically. If only if this ops had been like most of them, G would not feel on edge as if he were walking a tightrope above the Grand Canyon without a safety harness, without safety rope attached to the tightrope wire, without gloves to hold onto the wire, and without special shoes to help keep his balance on the tightrope wire. He was lost in some limbo land blindly feeling his way through it. He did not know where he was going.

"You refused to have sex last night."

"Why do you keep up with this crap?"

"What?" Sam asked. "Asking you if you want a massage is crap?"

"Yeah, right now it is, it has nothing to do with the ops."

"You're obsessed." He rolled off of G and stood. "I'll go make us lunch." He grabbed his bathrobe off a hook on the back of the closet door and left.

"Well, screw you too, asshole!"

Close to the hallway, Sam flipped on his heels and marched back into the closet. He hoisted his partner off the carpet, pushed him over to the bed, and shoved him onto it face down. "No, screw you." He removed his bathrobe and laid on G lengthwise.

"Bastard!"

"Get it all out of you."

"What out of me?"

"You're still angry about the ops and Hetty giving you no choices."

G sighed. "Yes and no."

Sam sighed. "That's not the answer I expected to come out of your mouth."

"I've resigned myself to going," he said. "She's given me no other choice."

"And?" Sam slipped off his partner sideways and faced him.

"The mind control and brainwashing has me worried."

"I told you I'll have your back."

"Remember when you read the text message on my phone back to me and I reacted to it."

"Yeah."

"What if that happens to me again?" G asked. "What if this time you can't stop how I respond to that programming?"

"You think he'll make you go to a glass shop." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

G wrestled Sam onto his back and straddled his waist. "Must you always interject some humor into a serious conversation?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "You get too freaked out over things out of your control."

Crap. "I never used to be this way."

"It's because of what happened to you with Brad Gowan," Sam said. "The unknown on this ops is just that, unknown."

"And like nothing we've ever dealt with on an ops," G said. "And we have no backup." He rolled off of his partner and laid on his side facing him. "Inside I'm a mess…"

Sam drew his partner into him, rubbing his back. "I know, sweetheart, I'm here if you need to talk or if you just want to be held."

"And if you just want to make me into a s'more sandwich."

"I missed you last night."

"I can't."

"I know."

G snuggled into Sam's chest and wrapped his arm around his partner's waist.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>G paced the hallway holding a burn phone in his hand and trying to muster the courage to call Hetty. It was time to inform her of his decision to go to Washington DC. Pacing when nervous or on edge was not something which G did often. When he did it meant only one thing to him, he rather not follow through with whatever it was that he was told he had to do. Orders were orders. G stopped again and stared at the phone in his hand. Damn it. He dialed her phone number and waited for his supervisor to pick up on the other end.<p>

"Mr. Callen."

"Hetty."

"When do you leave?" She asked.

"Ten minutes." He heard a click in the phone and knew she had hung up. After he shut off his cell phone, G turned the phone over and pulled out the smart card and destroyed it. He threw the destroyed card in the dying embers in the fireplace. Afterward he warmed himself in front of the fire.

"Ready?" Sam asked, entering the family room.

"Yeah." He threw the burn phone's shell into the trash bag his partner held in his hands.

"What did she say?"

"Less than I thought she would, my name and asked me when I was leaving."

"You serious?"

"Yeah," he said, "I think she thought the least amount of time I was on the phone with her the better. I'd have less time to back out of the ops."

Sam drew his partner into a hug. "Let's go get this bastard."

"My sediments exactly." He hugged his partner back. Before G could pull away, Sam kissed him softly on the lips. "That was a smooth move."

"Yep, more where that came from and soon." He took his partner's hand and lead him to the garage.

"You packed it without my help." G said.

"You've got too much on your mind, sweetheart, it was the least I could do for you." He opened the passenger door and helped G get in.

He reached for the seatbelt. "I can do this."

"Remember," Sam said, leaning over and securing G's seatbelt in place and kissing him, "I intend to keep up my part of our new tradition."

G wrapped his arms around his partner's neck and pulled him close, planting a tender kiss on his mouth. "And I will keep up my part of our new tradition." He released him.

"And as part of our new tradition, the car has been officially checked over from bumper to bumper." Sam closed the passenger door and climbed into the driver's side. He grasped G's left hand and kissed it. "I love you."

"There you go again, mixing pleasure with business," G said. "I love you too."

"Can't separate the two of them."

"Tried."

"Failed." Sam kissed G's hand again. "And I'm glad you and I both failed at that." He revved the engine and backed out of the garage. "And I'm glad you convinced me that a red metallic Challenger was the way to go."

G pulled the iPad2 out of his carryon pack and plugged it into the car's stereo system. He searched for the song Sam had downloaded for him and pressed play. He started to sing along with the song. "…Born to be wild…"

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><p>Thank you for reading my story.<p> 


	15. Auto Glass Shop, Ch 14

**Title: Rogue Agents**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Auto Glass Shop<strong>

**Chapter 14**

G and Sam opted to pay extra for business class seats on their flight to DC. They wanted more privacy. They cuddled together under a blanket and sipped on hot chocolate.

"I want you," Sam said, slipping his hand down to his lover's thigh and stroking it. "Let's take this into the bathroom."

"What?" G's jaw dropped.

"Ever done it on a plane?"

"No, and I'm not gonna start."

"Aw, you're spoiling my fun."

"Maybe you have a wish to be part of the mile high club, but I don't."

"Then we'll have to do it right here." Sam grasped his lover's belt and started to unbuckle it.

"Sam!"

"Yeah?"

"Cut it out, man, we're not doing this," G said, pushing his lover's hand away from his belt buckle. "Can't you wait until we touch down?"

"No, 40 minutes is too long to wait."

"40?"

"Yeah, the time it will take to touch down and check into a hotel room."

"Did you ever think that I still don't want to do it?"

"Yeah, it crossed my mind for about thirty seconds."

"Damn, you and your one track mind."

"So you'll accommodate me in the bathroom?"

G pushed the blanket off him and stood and stretched. He plodded toward the bathroom with his lover behind him. Sam scanned the area for anyone watching and seeing no one around he pushed his lover into the bathroom ahead of him. "Tight quarters," G said.

"Is that a comment about you?"

"I ought to—" He squeezed his eyes shut and backed away from Sam what little he could and ended up falling onto the toilet seat.

"Are you okay?" He reached out his hand to help G off the toilet seat.

"Get the fuck away from me, asshole!"

"Easy, man, it's Sam."

G's eyes flew open and widened. "Crap, what the hell just happened?" He asked. "What the hell are we doing in here?"

"Do you remember us sitting in our business class seats?"

"What?" He asked. "Where are we? Did we just have sex with me in here?"

"Not yet."

"Crap, oh crap, you need to get out of here."

"Me? Why?"

"I need to get out of here, now, damn it, let me out of here!" G raised his voice a couple of notches louder. He was close to a complete emotional, melt down. Yet he failed to understand why. His body trembled and his gut twisted with each passing moment as more panic set in.

Sam backed out of the bathroom and turned around to hold the door open for his lover. "You okay?" He saw the mien on G's face and knew the answer. No.

G rushed out of the bathroom and stared into the business class seats not knowing where his seat was. Sam passed him and sat in the second row of seats to his lover's right, patting the seat next to him. G followed suit and sat next to him, trembling within and visibly shaking.

"Talk to me, man."

"Can't, just don't do this." He grabbed the blanket from Sam's hands and gathered it around himself, seeking shelter from the coming storm within him.

"Less than fifteen minutes before we get off the plane."

"Can't, stop." G frantically searched through the pamphlets in the pocket in front of him.

He placed his hands over his lover's shaking ones. "Easy, sweetheart, what are you looking for?"

"Gonna be sick." Sam grabbed the motion sickness bag from the pocket and handed it to him. G held it up to his face, waves of nausea sweeping over him again and again. He waited. "I need to get away from here," he said between short breaths to hold back the nausea and the flashbacks.

"Put the cover over your head and buckle up," he said. "That's the best I can do for you right now, sweetheart."

When the plane landed he hurled into the motion sickness bag. A stewardess came by and took the filled bag from him. G motioned to his partner for him to get the other motion sickness bag.

Sam knew from experience that this was not motion sickness, but another memory. He handed his partner the bag. "What do you need from me?"

"Can't talk."

Together they watched the other passengers leave the plane. "I'm gonna get up and grab our carryon bag in the overhead storage bin."

G pleaded with his eyes. "Don't leave me."

"Never, sweetheart." He stood, stretched, and walked out into the aisle. After pulling down their carryon bag from the overhead storage bin, Sam helped his partner off the seat and directed him to go in front of him. "Follow the other passengers toward the exit. I'm right behind you." He wanted to hold and hug his partner. Yet he knew that could lead to a complete breakdown. They both did not need the stress of that happening on the plane or in the terminal. Sam followed his partner through the tunnel connecting the plane to the terminal. At the end of the tunnel, he came along side him. "I'm gonna take your hand, okay?" G nodded. Sam grasped his partner's hand and lead him toward the baggage claim area. When they got closer he stopped and had his partner sit on a bench. "Wait here while I get our suitcase."

G shot off the bench. "No!"

"Easy, man, listen to me—"

"I don't, no, can't be alone, don't do this to me." He visibly shook and his knees knocked together.

"You need to tell me what's going on, sweetheart, at least a clue," Sam said, lowering his voice.

G stared across the baggage claim area to where the luggage was tumbling down into the carousel. "Memory, that's all I can say."

"When we went into the—"

"Damn it, don't talk about it, I can't." G squeezed his eyes shut.

"Sorry, sweetheart." Sam grasped his partner's hand again and brought him over to the carousel. He grabbed their one piece of luggage and turned back toward the exit where a man confirmed it was theirs. Sam hoisted one piece of luggage over his shoulder and grabbed the other one with the same side of his body while holding onto G's hand. They hopped a shuttle to the rental car depot and paid for a rental car. Sam packed their combined suitcase into the trunk and left their carryon in the backseat. He opened the passenger door.

G backed away, shaking and his knees knocking together again. "No!"

"No other way."

"A cab."

"Can't, sweetheart, we need to be mobile." He guided his shaking partner into the seat.

"Please don't make me do this," G said, clinging to Sam's forearm and not releasing it.

"Talk to me," he said.

"I don't know what's going on with me, damn it, I… this terrifies me and I don't know why."

"I want you to remember who you're with," Sam said. "We're gonna follow our tradition to remind you. Sit back in the seat."

"You won't leave me."

"Absolutely not, sweetheart."

G released Sam's forearm and relaxed against the seat and headrest while Sam buckled his seatbelt and kissed him. He couldn't bring himself to wrap his arms around his partner's neck and draw him in for a kiss.

"We good?" Sam asked, when his partner did not reciprocate with his traditional kiss.

He stared out the front windshield. "Can't."

"Okay," he said, kissing him again and closing the black metallic Challenger's passenger door. He climbed into the driver's seat and grasped G's hand.

"I remember, damn it, I remember," he said, lowering his voice.

"Remember what?"

"What happened at the glass shop," G said with a distant, monotoned voice.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>They settled into their presidential suite at the Embassy Suites Washington D.C. - Convention Center.<p>

"You want to rest for a while before I order room service?" Sam asked. "I take it you don't want to go downstairs to eat."

"I need you to hold me on the bed."

"How?"

"Damn it, hold me, stop asking me questions." G kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed.

Sam sat on the bed and removed his shoes. He climbed onto the bed behind his lover, holding and stroking him.

Tears welled up in the corners of his sapphire blue eyes. "I'm sorry I freaked out on the plane."

"No need to apologize, sweetheart, I hope you know that by now."

"I know, damn it, but on the plane?"

"Were you triggered?"

"Yeah, and confused and it was too familiar." He buried his face in a pillow. "Crap, I never thought taking a trip on a plane would trigger off the memory about the glass shop."

"Our subconscious works in strange ways, maybe that's why you were opposed to this ops."

"That's entirely possible, hold me tighter."

Sam wrapped his arms around G's waist and drew him back into him. "I've got you, sweetheart." He nuzzled his lover's neck. "I love you and you're safe."

"They took me out the back door," he said. "First they drugged me." He grabbed his lover's arm and held on tight with both hands. "Crap, I was semi-conscious when they dragged me out the back door and into a waiting car and drove to the airport. I don't know which one. I don't think LAX. We got into the air too soon after getting into the car."

"No wonder the flight triggered you."

"It was when you wanted to go into the bathroom, that did it," G said. "I don't know why because it was a Gulf Stream 550 and that would be private."

"You remember them taking you into the bathroom."

"Yeah, my hands were tied in front of me and someone, I was too drugged to identify him, dragged me into the bathroom and drugged me again," he said. "I need you to hold me under the covers. I need to hide. Damn it, I can't stand it when this happens."

They climbed off the bed and stripped off their clothes.

"Better get something for vomiting."

Sam grabbed the nearest trash basket and set it beside the bed. They slipped under the covers together, Sam drawing G close into his body. "Whatever you need, sweetheart."

"I need you to hold me tight."

He tightened his hold.

G sighed. "That's it, feels safe, and pull the covers over us," he said. "I don't want there to be anything but us."

Sam drew the covers over their heads and wrapped his arms around his lover again. "You're safe, sweetheart, I've got you."

"I think it was Brad, crap, I'm over-the-top triggered." He shuddered and cringed. "Everything's in a fog."

"The drugs."

"Yeah, we landed some place in California, but I don't know where," G said. "We drove to this building and spent most of our time there. I know they programmed me. I don't know how and don't remember what happened there. It's as if I entered that building and then my memory ends. I don't remember the trip back on the plane."

"I wonder if hypnosis or something similar would bring back the memory."

"I don't want to know, because if I can't remember it's too terrifying to recall."

"My only concern is that if this flight triggered that memory," Sam said. "There might be something else more sinister going on with what they did to you. I need to call Hetty."

"You're gonna tell her I lost it on the plane and afterwards."

"She doesn't have to know the details."

"But you're gonna tell her something."

"Yeah, sorry, sweetheart, she needs to know this happened."

"Damn it."

Sam rolled over and lifted his next burn phone off the nightstand. He dialed Hetty's number. G climbed off the bed, grabbed a robe and wrapped it around himself, and left the bedroom. Sam followed him into the living room. "Hey, what's going on?" He disconnected his phone before Hetty answered.

"Just leave me alone and leave me out of this."

"Whoa." Sam pocketed his cell phone in his robe's pocket. "You're angry with me about this?"

"I'm not talking about this." G plopped down on a red microfiber sofa.

"Because you're angry that I'm calling Hetty?"

"Stop this crap, no more questions." He tucked his legs close to his body and rolled over onto his side.

Sam sat next to him, pulling G's head onto his lap. "I won't call her." He stroked his face.

"And I won't be angry with you."

He leaned over and kissed his lover's head.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>Sam watched G sleep on the sofa while he ordered a meal for them both. When the dinner arrived, he placed his lover's meal in the warming oven and ate his own. G stirred and opened his eyes staring across the room at Sam in the kitchen. "Sleep well?"<p>

"Yeah, I guess I needed it," G said, yawning and stretching out on the sofa.

"A couple of strokes on your face and you were out of it." He crossed the room and sat next to his lover. "Ordered dinner, you hungry?"

"Afraid I might vomit it up afterward."

"If you do, that's okay, sweetheart."

"You sure?"

Sam stroked his lover's face. "Yeah." He stood and crossed the room again. After lifting the meal from the warming oven, he brought it over to G and set it on the dark-stained oak, coffee table. Sam grabbed a trash basket and placed it on the other side of his lover. Afterward he sat down next to G leaning back into the cushions.

G took several bites and relaxed against Sam's semi-reclined body. Tears wet his eyes. He turned into his lover and snuggled closer. "Hold me."

Sam slipped an arm around his lover's shoulders and brought him closer into his body. "More memory?"

"Damn it, yeah, I don't know if I can tell you, it's terrifying."

"Take your time."

"Wires in me. Wires like he did before. Crap." He buried his face in Sam's chest and trembled.

"Before?"

"Yeah, he did it every time he programmed me."

"In Costa Rica?"

"Yeah, even in Costa Rica," he said, sighing. G squeezed his eyes shut and tried to push away the execrable memory and excruciating pain he endured at the hands of Brad Gowan. "Basket!" Sam shoved it under his lover's chin and held it for him. G hurled into it bringing up what he just ate. "Damn it. I hate this. Can't stomach this memory." He shuddered hard and drew his knees up to his chest.

Sam grabbed a cloth napkin off the coffee table and handed it his lover. "There's no pressure."

"The hell there isn't!"

"You're pressuring yourself, sweetheart, you know what I'm talking about, no pressure from me."

"Pressure from the ops and Hetty and her expectations and damn it… crap, screw this all." He lowered his head to Sam's lap. "He tortured me, because he wanted me to do something."

"How?"

"The wires, those damned wires."

"Why don't we take this into the bedroom under the covers again?" Sam asked. "I can hold you better in there. Let me put this back into the warming oven. Maybe you'll be hungry later on when you're finished dealing with this memory." He crossed the room and placed G's dinner back into the warming oven and came back over to his lover's side helping him into the bedroom. "Naked?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind, I need to feel you close to me."

"You know I don't mind, sweetheart." The right corner of his mouth turned upward.

He knew that look, Sam was up to something besides helping him remember what happened to him. "Yeah, you're probably thinking about how you can have your way with me."

"Well, it has been over twenty-four hours and I'm going into withdrawals," Sam said.

"I don't think so." He winked at him.

Sam climbed into bed and laid on his back. G positioned himself between his legs on his back with his head on his lover's chest. "Want me to scissor you again as we did before?"

He shuddered, flashbacks, uncontrollable images tearing through his mind. "Yeah, I want to be wrapped in your body."

He surrounded his lover legs with his own as if he was a human corkscrew. "We good?"

"Yeah, just how I like it, close and tight." He sighed and relaxed into his lover's strong hold on his body. "Electricity, he used electricity on the wires." He cringed and shivered tears flooding his eyes again.

"This is what Brad did every time to you."

"Yeah," G said. "Torture to get results. I wasn't giving him the satisfaction."

"You didn't acquiesce," Sam said. "Remember when you woke up from that nightmare and you were clawing your body. The wires were part of that dream."

"Yeah, damn it, he used the wires and I tried to get them off of me," he said. "I refused to obey him, he wanted me to obey him, and I flat out refused." He shuddered remembering what happened next. A high-pitched shriek escaped his lips and he thrashed his arms and body twisting and turning to release his assailant's vise-like grip on his body and legs.

Sam caressed his lover's cheek trying to calm him. "Easy, man, calm—"

G shrieked and twisted his body and legs. "Get your hands off me! Get your legs off me! Release me, damn it!"

"You wanted this."

"Stop! Make it stop." Tears streamed down his face as he relived the horror of Brad's torture.

Sam released his hold and moved away from his lover and faced him. "Better?" When he gazed into his distant eyes, he knew he was not better. He was caught up in the memory. "I'm here."

G crawled up to the pillows and wrapped his body around one of them cringing and shrieking. "Cover me, hide me, damn it, hurry."

Sam wrapped a blanket around them both and completely covered his lover's body. "You are safe and he can't find you."

"He'll find me, that's why I'm here, he wanted me to come here, I told Hetty I didn't want to do this, damn it, why didn't she listen to me, I told her it wasn't a good idea and she brushed me off and acted as if I wasn't making any sense." He rattled the words off as if they were shot out of an Uzi with a rapid, staccato fire.

"Easy, man, slow down and make sense."

"Damn it, I _am_ making sense." G shivered and pulled the blanket around him.

"Calm down, and talk to me, man."

"Crap, I told you, damn it, and I told her and she didn't listen, this wasn't a good idea, he's waiting for me, he wanted me to come here—"

"Easy, G, come on man, you need to slow it down."

He sighed and relaxed the coiled position of his body around the pillow. "He's gonna find me."

"He can't, man, he doesn't have a way to contact you."

"Through the cell phones."

"They are burn phones and we don't reuse them," Sam said. "There's absolutely no way he can use those to contact you."

"Shit!" He grabbed the pillow again and crunched it underneath him enveloping his body around it and panting hard. Breathless. "I… crap, I can't do this, I need to call Hetty."

"Absolutely no way in hell is that happening while you're in this state."

"What does that mean?" G pulled back the blanket and glanced up into Sam's eyes. "This state of craziness? Is that what you mean? You think I'm crazy, don't you? Answer me—"

"Give me a chance," he said. "By that I meant, you're not thinking straight about Brad and him contacting you."

"He programmed me to come here," G said. "You understand?"

"What?" Sam's eyes widened.

"Crap, oh crap, I should've never said that." He drew the blanket over himself again. Sam hid under the covers with him. "No, I don't want you here with me."

"I'm staying until you tell me what you meant by that."

"Just forget it."

"That's not happening," Sam said, snuggling into his lover.

"Okay, he programmed me, it was just as you said before, something more sinister than I remembered."

"Every time he tortured you, he programmed you?"

He sighed. "Yeah."

"Thought so, and?"

"Here we go again with that damned word you love so much."

"It works, and?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Don't start stalling on me, man, talk to me."

"I told you he wanted me to do something," G said.

"Illegal or legal?"

"Highly illegal." He released the breath he was holding with a long, noisy sigh. "And damaging more to than just myself."

"How damaging?"

"Crap." G released a shaky sigh this time while his eyes teared up again. "Dangerous and damaging and damn it, it's gonna happen and I can't control it."

"No, man, he has no way to contact you."

"It doesn't matter, he'll know I'm here, he told me to come here, and now he can access me."

"I won't let it happen—"

"You can't stop him!" He cringed. "You couldn't stop him before. You didn't even know he contacted me. No one knew and he made me come to him. It will happen again and there's nothing, _nothing_ you can do to stop him."

"I need to call Hetty."

"Hell no!"

"You just told me you wanted to contact her."

"Not with this, I don't want anyone to know about it."

"Because Brad told you to not tell anyone."

G bowed his head and stared at Sam's chest. "Yeah, and tortured me to not tell."

"Tortured you to make you do something and tortured you to shut you up."

"Yeah, crap, yeah."

Sam lifted his lover's chin with one finger and gazed into his eyes. "This is not your fault."

"It will be if I follow through with what he'll make me do."

"No, it won't, man, he's using you, and I'm not gonna let you do his bidding."

"You can't stop him." Tears flooded his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks.

Sam wiped them away with his thumb and finger. "I promise you, I'll find a way." He planted a tender kiss on his lover's mouth. "I love you and I'll do whatever it takes to protect you. I promise. I've got your back." Sam kissed him again.

G snuggled into his lover surrounding his waist with both arms. "Please."

"What?"

"I need you."

"Right now I need to contact Hetty," he said. "I want you to rest while I speak with her in the other room." Sam kissed him on the forehead. "I'll be right back." He slid out from under the blanket and tucked it around his lover.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>Sam entered the living area and wrapped a bathrobe around him. He removed the burn phone from his pocket and dialed Hetty's number. This scenario was not the one he imagined he would be calling her about right now. This card was the last card he ever wanted to play. It was necessary. They had to smoke out Brad Gowan and that only left one option.<p>

"Hetty."

"Mr. Hanna, what is the reason for your call?"

"Plan B," he said lowering his voice to barely audible.

"Must be the scenario we talked about, programming."

"Yes, it is."

"Plan B it is then," she said. "Do you have any idea what it entails?"

"Highly illegal, damaging, and dangerous is—"

"You damned bastard!" G grabbed the phone from Sam and screamed into it. "Don't you dare play games with me and my life. I know you two are up to something. I'm not stupid, you hear me!"

"Give me the phone," Sam said.

He backed away. "Screw you, asshole!"

"Want me to wrestle you for it?"

G backed up several feet. "Don't you dare come near me."

Sam stepped closer to him.

G inched backward, keeping his eye on his partner. "You lied to me. You withheld the truth from me."

"I told you as much as you could handle."

"Liar!"

"Easy, man, give me the phone." Sam took a long stride closer to him.

"What the hell are you gonna do with me?" He screamed into the phone again. "What the hell is Plan B?"

"If you give me a chance—"

"I'll give you a chance if you're gonna tell me the damned truth."

"I plan to do just that, Mr. Callen, now give me a chance."

With his trembling hands, he could barely hold the phone up to his ear. "The truth." His voice quavered and his body shook. "Plan B."

"An alternative plan for scenarios such as the one we are now dealing with."

He stuttered. "What damned scenario?"

"You being programmed, Mr. Callen," Hetty said. "Now please give the phone back to your partner. I need to speak with him."

"Because you think I'm crazy!" He yelled into the phone. His voice quavered. His body trembled.

"No, I need to speak with Mr. Hanna about Plan B."

"Talk to me about it."

"No, you need to calm down."

"Because I'm crazy, right, just say it, say it already, damn it, why don't you just say it!" He stuttered while his hands shook.

"Mr. Callen, please hand the phone over to your partner."

Tears welled up in his eyes.

"Come on, G, give it to me." Sam stepped to within inches of his lover and held out his hand. G fell into his lover's body and started crying. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, you weren't supposed to hear the conversation while under this duress." Sam took the phone from him and rocked G in his arms while he spoke with his supervisor about Plan B. He listened to her instructions and was prepared to initiate them. Sam had not expected his partner to be compromised by Brad Gowan's programming. It was the scenario his supervisor had warned him about. "Yes, Hetty, whatever it takes, I know the plan and I'm ready to execute it."

"I'll call you back on one of your burn phones as soon as everything is arranged," she said, ending the phone call.

Sam turned the phone off and removed the smart card, bending into several pieces and tossing them and the phone parts onto the coffee table. He lifted G into his arms and plodded back into the bedroom. Sam sat on the bedside and rocked G in his arms. "You're safe, I promise I won't allow any harm to come your way," he said, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. Sam hoped he could keep that promise to his lover and partner.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading my story.<p> 


	16. Saving G's Skinny Ass, Ch 15

Happy New Year everyone!

Thanks for the great reviews: CALLEN37, Luv2CGWhumped, Sue, Sweetpea, Rita, Dixie, Judy, mewmar, Sissy, and blondie134. You guys are great!

I love, love, love reviews.

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Rogue Agents<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

**Daffynition: POTUS **— President of The United States

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Saving G's Skinny Ass<strong>

**Chapter 15**

After Sam settled G onto the sofa, he impatiently waited for the next step in their coming ops. This next step would not be pleasant for either one of them. He knew that his partner would resist what was coming. He did not blame him one iota. Sam nervously tucked the blanket around his partner. He sat at one end of the sofa, massaging G's feet through the blanket.

A single rap on the door.

Sam shot off the sofa and started for the door.

G shrieked and leaped off the sofa, dashing into the bedroom.

"Crap." Sam answered the door and let Jethro into the suite. "He's a little gun shy. I'll go get him."

"Perhaps it's best that we do it where he feels safest." He followed Sam into the bedroom.

"Get him away from me!" G squeezed his eyes shut and huddled in a corner of the room, shivering and panting.

"Sweetheart, it's your friend, Jethro."

"Liar, don't you lie to me, I'm not stupid, you think I'm stupid—"

"Stop and come over here to the bedside."

G opened his eyes and saw his friend. "I thought, damn it, you were him." He plodded over to Sam and stood in front of him. "Sorry, I lost it, I thought, you know what I thought. Crap, this sucks." He lowered his head.

"No, you don't, sweetheart, this isn't your fault." Sam lifted his lover's chin until sapphire eyes met brown eyes. He wrapped his arms around G's waist and held him tight against his body and between his legs. He eyed Jethro. He tightened his hold on his lover.

"Sam—"

Jethro injected G's left biceps with medicine.

He yelped and jerked his body hard to extricate himself from Sam's strong arms. "What the hell, what did you give me?"

"Something to sedate you."

"Why?" G asked, trying to keep his voice steady and strong. "I never did anything to you. Damn it, Jethro, I thought you were my friend."

"We still are and I needed to give you this," Jethro said. "Next I'll give you the isotope."

"Isotope?" He stuttered, having a difficult time stringing words together."What the hell? Tell me what's going on Sam." Tears welled up in his sapphire blue eyes.

"The less you know right now, the better."

"Sam, please, tell me, damn it, please."

"No, I'm sorry," he said. "Where would you like him? You administering or Ducky?"

"I thought it best for me to do it, because we're friends."

"Feel dizzy."

"Medicine is working, G," Jethro said. "Let's lie him on the bed face down."

"No, please, you gonna tell me, man, we've never lied to each other," he said, stuttering and slurring his words. "I'm gonna fight you both."

"Go ahead and try if that will make you feel better."

"Damn you both, damn you, I trusted you, Jethro."

"And you will again."

Sam laid his lover face down on the bed and straddled his hips. He brought G's arms backward, resting them on his lover's lower back and holding them with one hand.

"The best place is the mid-back to upper back area." Jethro kneeled on the bed beside his friend and removed a specialized syringe from his pocket. "This might hurt more than a regular injection." He swabbed a large area with an alcohol pad, put on a pair of gloves, and palpated the area making sure there were no obvious bones in the way. Jethro selected a fatty area, not much to choose from though due to his friend's buff body. "You've been working out. You look good."

"Coming on to me," he said with slurred speech.

"Not like your partner, G, just noticing your body's composition has changed since we last met." He pinched a fatty area between a thumb and three fingers on his left hand. "A sting." He plunged the thick needle into the fat.

G yelped, flinched, and tried to raise his upper body off the bed. Sam pressed his lover's head back down on the blanket. "Easy G."

Jethro injected the syringe's contents through the fatty area into the muscle to the side of it. "Perfect." He removed the syringe and held a sterile pad to the site. "Hold this," he said to Sam.

"Are you gonna tell me what the hell that was?"

"Yep, as soon as I get you settled in for a nap," Sam said.

"What if I don't want to take one?"

"Believe me, that medicine I just gave you will have you sleeping in no time," Jethro said.

"Damn it, first time I've seen you in ages and you drug me."

"You'll see me later and you won't be drugged." He patted G on the back of his head and left the room.

Sam rolled off of his lover and tucked him into bed.

"You're not staying with me?"

"Nope, need to talk over Plan B with Hetty and Jethro."

"Plan B?" G asked his eyes fluttering.

"Close those beautiful blues and go to sleep." He kissed his lover on the lips.

"Do you still love me?"

"What?" Sam sat on the bed close to him. "Why don't you think so?"

"You let my best friend drug me."

He sighed. "Damn if I do…"

"What?" G raised his left eyebrow.

"I'm trying to save your skinny ass, man," Sam said.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>G awakened several hours later and wandered into the living room to find Sam on the sofa watching the military channel. He slid down onto the sofa beside him and snuggled into his lover's side. Sam wrapped an arm around his shoulders and drew G closer to him.<p>

"Sleep okay?"

"A drugged sleep, but a sound one," he said.

"And?"

"Are we gonna do that word again?" G asked. "I want to know what Jethro put inside my back."

"A tracking device."

He pulled away and slid sideways several inches on the sofa. "Why didn't you ask me for permission?"

"You'd resist whatever we tried to do."

G stood and backed away from him. "You could've told me."

"Easy, man, we did it for your protection."

"We?" His eyes widened.

Sam sighed, stood and faced his lover. "Hetty and I."

"My protection?"

"Yeah, man, sorry I couldn't tell you anything more."

"You violated me and now you tell me it's for my protection?" Tears formed in the corners of his sapphire blue eyes. He whimpered and backed away.

"Come on, G, don't do this, I didn't violate you," Sam said. "I'm trying to save your ass."

"What?" He asked. "I trusted you, damn it." His lower lip and chin quivered as he backed up until the door was behind him. The doorknob pressed into his buttocks. "Don't come near me. I can't believe you did this to me. So now I'm the sitting duck to smoke him out."

Sam stepped closer to him. "Yeah."

G shook his head several times. "Stop." He sniffled. "I trusted you. You're the first person I've trusted in years and damn it..."

"Sweetheart, you need to—"

"Don't you 'sweetheart me,' bastard!" He flipped on his heels and rushed into the bedroom, slamming the door shut.

Sam opened the bedroom door and stared into the room.

By the bathroom door, G slid down a wall until he sat and drew his knees up to chest. He clasped his arms around both knees and rocked himself.

Sam stared at his lover's position on the plush, cherry and black patterned carpet. "There's no other way, you understand?" He asked not expecting a reply. "Brad's gonna kidnap you and you need to be tracked."

"I can't handle another kidnapping, damn it, it'll crush me."

"Don't resist this time, go with whatever he wants you to do."

"What?" G's jaw dropped. "Seriously, you want me to carry out his agenda?"

"Hetty wants you to tell him 'yes,' and then he'll go easy on you."

"You hope," G said. _I know the bastard. He pursues his torture regardless of the answer he receives from me._

"Doesn't he want you to go rogue?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, but he wants me to… damn it… assassinate someone."

Sam's eyes widened. "Who?"

"I'm not ready to tell you," he said. "Now, I'm not positive I can trust you." G relaxed his arms and released a shaky breath. He clasped his arms around his knees again, tightening his grip.

Sam sat next to his lover on the carpet. "Come on, man, you must know I had no choice in this matter."

"And when did it first come to this possibility?"

"When Hetty came to my house and you were lying on the sofa."

G's jaw dropped. "That long ago?" Damn it. "I suppose everything from there on was a big fat, fucking lie."

"What are you talking about?"

"All our lovemaking was to get me ready to be drugged and tracked," he said. "You never loved me. It's all a damned lie." Tears welled up in his sapphire blue eyes.

"Damn it!" Sam rose off the carpet and stood by the window, staring at the city lights of Washington DC. "You don't get it. I had no choice. If in fact you were compromised, Hetty ordered me to follow through with this. If you want to get angry with someone, take it out on her, not me. I'm doing my damned job and believe when I say this, I hate this choice. Hate it." He flipped on his heels and left the bedroom.

G entered the living area and stood behind the sofa. He watched the military channel with Sam for a few minutes. "Prove it to me."

"Prove what?" Sam glanced over his shoulder the remote control still in his hand.

"You know what," he said. "Do I need to spell it out?"

"Yeah, apparently you do," he said. "I'm missing the point of this part of our conversation."

"Make love to me." When G failed to get an immediate response, he started to leave.

Sam tossed the remote on the coffee table and leaped over the back of the sofa. "Don't you turn away from us now."

"I can't believe you just jumped—"

Sam silenced him with a sloppy wet kiss and drawing him into a loving embrace. "I do love you, man." He kissed him again this time tender and lingering. "I didn't use you. Everything we did was real. It wasn't a game. I want to make love to you, as it was the first night we made love. You remember?"

Tears welled up in G's eyes again.

"Yeah, you do." He cupped his lover's face in both hands. "I don't want anything more to happen to you at the hands of that bastard."

G sighed. "But, it's inevitable."

"Yeah, it is and a tracking device imbedded in your body was the only way Hetty knew for certain we can know your whereabouts at all times."

"What if he finds—"

Sam silenced him again with a tender kiss. "We're not thinking about any other scenarios," he said, planting a line of light kisses along his lover's jaw until he reached his earlobe. He suckled on G's sensitive spot below his ear, making a slight, red mark on the skin. "Now I've marked you too."

"Make love to me." He surrounded Sam's waist with both arms drawing him closer. "I need you."

Sam lifted G into his arms and brought him into the bedroom. "You know we haven't made love in over two days." He laid with him on the bed. "And you're overdressed for the occasion." Sam slipped his hand under his lover's bathrobe and brushed across the silky blond hairs on his chest. "Damn, you're hot and sexy." He nibbled on G's earlobe. "Ready for a s'more sandwich?"

"Past ready." G wrapped his arms around the back of Sam's neck and drew him closer for a sloppy kiss, devouring his mouth and pushing his tongue inside.

After a few minutes of his lover's intense kissing, Sam broke away breathless. "I'll agree with you." He rolled onto his back and drew G with him, slipping his hand under his lover's bathrobe and teasing his spot. A long, low moan escaped from G's soft lips. "I'm hopelessly in love with you."

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>G awakened to the sounds of Sam packing. He sat up in bed and watched him at the end of the bed methodically packing their ops gear into a small duffle bag. "I thought we were doing that together."<p>

"Me too, but I tried to wake you and you were sound asleep."

"It's your fault." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

Sam stopped and set the duffle bag on the floor beside the bed and climbed up to the top of the bed, pulling G down next to him. "That was the hottest lovemaking we've had since the first time we made love."

"I enjoyed our time together."

"I planned a reward for after the successful completion of our ops."

"Reward?" G asked.

"Yeah, something to keep your mind focused on while you're going rogue."

"I'll be focused on you."

"I know you, you'll be focused on Brad and what kind of torture he's planning to perpetrate on you."

G sighed. "Damn it, you know me too well."

"Yep."

"What kind of reward?" He asked.

"I promise we'll make love some place inside of NCIS Headquarters."

G sat straight up in bed and stared at him. "Hell no, that's not a good idea."

"It's a fine idea."

"A fine way to get suspended or possibly worse, fired."

"Nope."

"This relationship is on the edge of inappropriate according to the—"

Sam drew him down into a hard kiss. "Hetty's approved of our relationship and even encouraged it." He forced his tongue inside his lover's mouth. "I have a special spot in mind for our headquarter's tryst."

"Where?"

"I'll allow you to ask a couple of questions to figure it out."

"And of course you'll stop me when I get too close to the answer."

"Nope, I want this to be something your mind zeros in on when you're in the worst possible scenario."

"You mean how you teased me at the shooting range?"

"Yep."

"It better not be in the bullpen."

"It isn't, but why not?"

"Too many people who know us might figure out that we made love there." G imagined Sam forcing him face first onto his desk and taking him from behind. A wide grin spread over his face. The lounge was the hottest option downstairs. He imagined Sam pushing him over the back of a leather chair and having his way with him.

"How?" Sam asked. "Unless someone takes pictures and posts them on your Twitter account."

"I ought to bust your jaw for that one."

"Getting all riled up—"

"Leave my damned Twitter account out of this!"

"Got the password figured out."

"Better not."

"I did and your Facebook account too."

"Damn it, since when?" G asked.

"After we made love," Sam said, "you got extremely verbal and shared a lot of stuff with me."

"Liar."

"You think so, just wait and see."

Time to change the subject. "I hope not Hetty's office."

"Now there's a place I didn't think about until you—"

"Sam, no!"

"Why?"

G cringed even thinking about making love in Hetty's office. Sacrilege, that's what it was. He shuddered thinking about his supervisor finding anything out of place. A worse scenario, what if she found a different smell besides her exotic teas from around the world. "Wouldn't be right," he said. "You wouldn't do it in the OPS Center."

"I wouldn't?" Sam asked.

"Everybody, crap, they'll know and that's not a good idea."

"It's a great idea, glad I already thought of it, and even measured."

"What?" G raised his left eyebrow. He tried to figure out what needed to be measured.

"The height of my crotch versus your crotch and the inseam of your pants."

He glanced at him sideways. "What the hell?"

"The object we're using requires certain specifications."

"For what?"

"And your back and thigh needed to be healed before we could—"

"No way in hell!"

"Ah, you know where we'll do it."

G imagined himself lying face up and legs spread wide on the light table in the OPS Center. In his imagination, he watched Sam approach him wearing nothing. He smirked.

"Ah, your mind is stuck on the image and you like it."

"When did you have time to measure me?"

"I used my eyes while we faced the table or faced the video screen."

He remembered the day too. Sam kept staring at his body, and afterward he backed away and glanced down at his own. After his partner had ogled him like that, G decided it was time to put a little distance between them. He arranged for the stakeouts by himself at the unsub's house in Woodland Hills.

"You know."

"Yeah, I do."

"Can't wait to ravish every square inch of your responsive and sexy body."

G shuddered, his mind focusing on the sensations of Sam stroking and caressing his body. His soft fingers and his wide, smooth tongue which toyed with his sensitive nipples. His distinctive smell, the sweat which turned him on and made him desire his lover more. How Sam nibbled, sucked, and kissed his sensitive earlobes.

"G?"

"I'm there already enjoying you messing with my body."

"Yeah, and that will remain with you until we're in the OPS Center."

"Tease."

"Oh, I'm not through teasing your mind with our tryst," Sam said. "I bought some reminders for you."

G's eyes widened. "Exactly what do you have in mind?"

"Anything which will keep your mind focused on our OPS Center tryst." He laid back and opened the nightstand drawer and took out one item, laying it on his bare chest.

"Shit!" The moment G saw the ocean blue skivvies, pieces of a memory flashed in his mind. He pulled away from Sam.

"Easy, man," he said, seeing the familiar far away look in his partner's eyes. "What are you remembering?"

"Don't ask me." G slid off the bed, grabbed his robe, and rushed out of the bedroom. He plopped down on the sofa in the living area, pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his knees.

Sam followed him. "At least allow me to hold you." He sat near his lover on the sofa.

"Can't." He rested his chin between his knees and rocked himself.

"Memory."

He nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and attempting to force the memory deeper into his mind. "Can't do this."

"The ops."

"No, this memory, can't talk about it." G shuddered and rocked. "What little a can see is freaking me out."

"The skivvies triggered this."

"Yeah, damn it," he said. "I think I now understand what Brad was doing to me. It's starting to make sense." He sighed. "It's more sinister than I thought or imagined. I don't know why I blocked this memory and kept it away from my consciousness for so long. That doesn't make sense."

"Your mind's way of protecting you from what happened to you."

"I wish it would stop doing that," G said. "It's driving me crazy."

"No, it's preventing you from going crazy."

"What?" He raised his head and glanced at Sam.

"That's how your mind works."

"If you say so," G said.

"Nate explained it to me."

"I wish he'd explain it to me."

"He tried and gave up."

"What?" G raised his left eyebrow. "He never told me. At least, I don't remember him telling me."

"That's more like the truth, you don't remember."

"I've been preoccupied with this ops and you and remembering what Brad did to me." He had hoped that the memories were finished. Now, he realized that wasn't true. The closer G's departure time for the ops loomed, the more he loathed the new memories.

"A hug?" Sam opened his arms.

G crawled across the sofa and settled into his lover's arms. "Hold me tight."

He tightened his arms around his lover's back.

He gazed up into Sam's face. "Promise me," he said, "promise me, you won't leave me."

"What?" He raised his left eyebrow.

"I need to hear you promise me that no matter what I share you won't leave me."

"Where's this coming from—"

"Damn it, promise me."

"I shouldn't have to say a thing," Sam said. "I love you and nothing's gonna change that."

Tears welled up in G's sapphire blue eyes. "I remember being used as a—" He buried his face in his lover's chest. "I don't know if I can tell you. Everything he trained me to do was for a specific purpose." Brad wanted him to assassinate the man with the highest ranking position of power in the United States, POTUS. He cringed with the thought of following through with his former supervisor's training. G wished he never heard the word in his whole life. POTUS was an integral part of his life now. He worked for NCIS and it was linked to the government and therefore to POTUS. He failed to understand why he never realized his strong need to stay connected to the government. G was drawn to any government entity which was linked to what happened at the DEA. He pursued working for two more government agencies after leaving the DEA. With his expertise, G could have easily worked in the private sector or even started his own business. Now, all of this made sense. Shivers traveled up and down his spine. He shuddered. "He trained me to be a, crap, why can't I just spit it out." He cringed again. "A male escort for a specific groups of people." The less he shared, the better, at least for now.

"I wonder why Brad wanted you to do that," Sam said.

"Don't know," G said. Lies of omission. He was not ready to tell his partner and lover about Brad's 'assignment.' "You probably don't want me any more and I understand. I mean who would want someone who subjected themselves to—"

"This wasn't your fault." He raised G's chin and gazed deep into his lover's glistening, sapphire eyes. "I told you, nothing's gonna change how I feel about you. I love you."

"But I wanted to obey him."

"What?" Sam shot him a look of surprise. "You were drugged and programmed. You didn't choose to obey him. He forced you into prostitution. Brad used you, man, you had no choice."

"Suppose that were true—"

"Suppose?" Sam asked. "You didn't hear a word I just said."

"I heard you," G said. "Can't believe you. Want to believe I had a choice. Want to believe I could've walked away from it all." He sighed. "Yet, I know that isn't true, crap. I hate this memory. I hate what it means too. I'm now more compromised than I was before knowing this."

"Yeah," he said, "I'm here for you if you need me."

"But not on the ops." He knew what was gonna happen now. No matter what, he was on his own. Brad Gowan needed to be confronted by him and him alone. Sam supported and backed him and that was all. The ops was in his hands. His repugnance toward Brad Gowan grew stronger within him.

"I'll be here."

"Yeah, I know what that means," G said. "Now, I understand why Brad refused to give me any sexual satisfaction. It wasn't about me. It was never about me. Brad trained me to pleasure others and himself. He's one sick and sadistic bastard." G seethed inside, carrying out this ops would be easier with this intense hatred brewing within him.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>G entered the bedroom and laid down on the bed facing the door. "You still want me to wear those… risqué skivvies."<p>

Sam followed him and sat on the be and grabbed the skivvies. "Yeah, on your ops."

He stared at the ocean blue, skimpy skivvies in his lover's hand. "Hell no!"

"Hell yeah, and when the G-string rides up your crack while you're on the ops tonight," he said, "you'll remember our tryst."

"No."

"Poor sport."

"You got that right."

"You need something tangible to remind you of our special date in the OPS Center."

G rolled over onto his back. "I don't need any reminders."

Sam straddled his waist. "I promise to give you something special before our ops," he said. "If you wear these for me." He dangled the skimpy skivvies above G's face.

"I suppose I have to wear something just as obscene with those."

"No, revealing." Sam reached under his pillow and pulled out a sleeveless, ocean blue t-shirt.

"Damn, a muscle T." He sighed. One of these T's accentuated every muscle on his chest. Obviously, Sam wanted to ogle his body and needed to be reminded of what his lover's body looked like. This worked both ways.

"Acquiescing?"

"What if he makes me strip?"

"Come on, G, I hope you have a plan which prevents that scenario from happening."

"Yeah, but it could always fail."

"Not with my secret agent."

"Secret agent." G smirked. "I like the sound of that." He thought of the TV show Secret Agent and chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"Inside joke."

"You mean inside your head."

"The TV series," G said, shooting him a look.

"Yeah, except you're gonna live to see tomorrow," Sam said.

"And I don't have a number." He smirked. "And this ops is not on the Riviera."

"Smart-ass." Sam set his purchases aside and laid lengthwise on his lover, pressing G's hands above his head. "I want to make love to you again before we leave."

"Trying to wear me out?"

"Keeping you relaxed, sweetheart."

"I'm relaxed."

"And I really want you to wear those skivvies."

"G-string."

"Yeah, and in your favorite color," Sam said. "Will you?"

He sighed. "Yeah, for you."

"And yourself to keep your mind on me."

"Yeah."

"Got a surprise for you."

"You said that before."

"You hungry?"

"Too nervous," G said.

"How about you order anything you'd like."

"Anything."

"Yeah."

"Popsicles."

Sam licked his lips. "You like sucking on long, hard things."

G wrestled his hands free and wrapped them around the back of his lover's neck drawing him closer to his face. "Have I ever said you're the biggest tease?" He planted a tender kiss on Sam's mouth.

"Numerous times." He grinned wide.

"Seriously, I can get popsicles."

"Anything you want."

"Okay, what's the catch."

"Nothing," Sam said. "Tell me what you want and I'll order it."

"And I'll have to wear those skivvies."

"Yeah, you will."

"Cream orange, cherry, and blueberry."

"You would have to pick cherry flavored."

G kissed him again. "It fits," he said, "but I still don't believe this snazzy hotel is about to make me popsicles."

"Okay, then let's make a bet, if this hotel makes your popsicles I get to do whatever I wish with your sexy body for the next four hours."

"If they don't."

"It's reversed."

"Deal."

Sam slid off his lover and grabbed another burn phone.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>"If I keep losing bets with you, I'll never leave this hotel suite," G said, lying naked on the bed face down and sucking on a cherry popsicle.<p>

"Poor thing, another sensuous massage before your ops," Sam said, kneading his lover's shoulder blades. "Still tight here."

"My ops?" G asked. "I thought this is our ops."

He rolled off his lover's back and laid along side him. "One damn slip."

"You're not going with me, I thought so, this isn't the first time you said that."

"No, you're right."

G turned and faced him. "I need you to be up front and honest." He licked and sucked down the length of his seven inch cherry popsicle.

"Talk about a tease." Sam leaned over and sucked down the length of his lover's popsicle.

"Get your own."

"I do have my own." He reached over and caressed his lover's member. "And it grows rather than shrinks and it's hot just like its owner."

G brushed his lover's hand away from his crotch. "Would you quit that."

"No." Sam wrapped his arm around G's waist and drew him closer. "I want you."

"First, tell me what's happening."

"After we make love."

"No, now."

Sam sighed. "You're leaving the hotel on your own."

G pulled away from him and sat up. "Since when?"

"When I spoke with Hetty about Plan B and she called me back."

"And now you tell me," he said. "I'm the last to know about your devious plan to make me the sitting duck."

"Sorry."

"That's all you have to say."

"Yeah."

G sighed. "Tell me how this is supposed to work."

"You inform her of your intention to start the ops," Sam said. "And she leaks information about your location to the DEA."

"And then it's official, I _am_ the sitting duck."

"Or the sitting target."

"If I know Brad as I do, I won't be standing soon after I walk out that hotel lobby."

"He'll drug you."

"Yeah, damn it, I don't look forward to this whole situation." This quintessential creep was the most sadistic man he knew. With his newest memory, G knew another reason to fear meeting with Brad Gowan.

"Hetty says you can opt out at any time."

G laid prone again and sucked on his popsicle. "Yeah." If he opted out on this ops, he might as well kick his career to the curb with it. _I will never work as an undercover ops agent and have the confidence I need to perform the job._

Sam straddled his lover's hips. "I see you're ready for more massage."

"No, I'm ready for more avoidance techniques."

"You avoiding?"

"Always on this ops."

"I have ways to get you motivated."

"I'll bet you do." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

"I bought you another gift."

G's eyebrows furrowed. "I'm afraid to ask."

Sam climbed off of his lover and opened G's nightstand drawer. "It is my hope that you never wore this type of gun, and that Brad wouldn't think to check for any more weapons than your first one." He presented his lover with a S & W 640 .357 magnum with an ankle holster.

"I thought you purchased it for yourself."

"I lied to you."

"Damn, you're too good at that."

"Have to be if I go undercover especially with the best liar I know," Sam said, smirking.

"Glad you did, I've always wanted one of these." G hefted the gun in his right hand. "Heavy, good," he said. "I never saw the purpose in getting one. Although with this ops, I've started to reassess my weaponry."

Sam strapped the holster around his lover's left ankle. "Sexy."

"While we're having sex."

"Yeah, sexier, but the gun stays on the nightstand."

"Aw, where's your sense of adventure." G sniggered.

"As passionate as we get between the sheets, I'd rather have that gun out of the way." Sam took the gun from his lover and placed it on the nightstand. He pushed G onto his back. "Time for you to pay up for your loss."

"Losing can be a bitch, but I love the benefits and the man who has them." G wrapped an arm around the back of his lover's neck and drew him down for a kiss. Afterward he pressed the cherry popsicle into Sam's mouth. "Take a bite."

He licked the length of it a couple of times, teasing his lover with ogles. He finally took a big bite.

"Damn that was sexy, do it again." He gave his lover the popsicle.

"You first," Sam said, pushing the popsicle toward his lover's mouth.

G ran his tongue up and down the popsicle several times, paying close attention to the smooth tip. He sucked on the remaining four inches taking it into his mouth and biting off half.

"Tease." Sam took it from his lover's mouth and ate the rest. After he finished it, he smacked and licked his lips. "I love cherry flavored popsicles."

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading my story.<p> 


	17. Sitting Duck, Ch 16

**Title: Rogue Agents**

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Sitting Duck<strong>

**Chapter 16**

Sam playfully grabbed G's arms and placed them behind his back holding them in place with one hand. "You're not getting away from me that easy."

G squirmed and arched his chest trying to break free. "I need to call Hetty."

"Yeah, good excuse."

"But I do."

Sam released his arms and pushed his lover onto his back. "Remember, I get your body for four hours not three, that's the deal," he said. "Time for part two." He pressed his lover's arms above his head and held them with his right arm while teasing one of G's nipples with his tongue.

A low moan escaped G's lips as he squirmed all over the bed. "Damn it, you know what that does to me."

Sam raised his head and kissed G on the lips. "Yeah, I do." He released his arms, rolled off him, and climbed off the bed. "You and I could both use a hot shower." He lifted G into his arms and carried him into the luxurious bathroom.

"All you want to do is shower yourself with my presence."

"Oh, you're asking for it." He set G on his feet in the floor-to-ceiling ultramarine, tiled shower. "For that wicked comment, you bathe me first."

G grabbed the bar of luxury soap and worked up a rich lather in this hands. After setting the bar of soap aside, he began a sensuous massage of his lover's whole body with his soapy hands.

"Now that's what I'm talking about." Sam placed both hands against the shower wall and spread his legs.

G soaped up his hands more and used long, purposeful strokes down and up one of Sam's muscular legs and then switched to the other one smoothing his hands down and back up his lover's leg. G finished by wrapping himself around his lover's soapy body and washing his smooth, chocolate chest, and kissing and licking his back. "I love you," he said, lowering his voice and speaking with his most sensuous tone.

Sam straightened, pulled away, turned around, and stepped forward to surround G with both arms around his waist. "That was one of the most pleasurable baths you've ever given me." He lifted his lover's chin and saw the tears in the corners of his eyes. "What's going on, sweetheart?"

He pulled away, rinsed under the water, and started to step out of the shower. "Nothing."

Sam drew him back over to him. "I know you better than that."

"It's the ops, damn it, and Brad and what he did to me, there's so much I didn't tell you."

"Don't you think I know that," Sam said, sighing. "I need to tell you something. I wasn't gonna tell you. Hetty told me not to tell you, but I need to tell you before you go on this ops."

"Sounds mysterious."

"It's not." He sighed again.

"I think it's serious."

"Yeah," Sam said. "She told me this relationship is expendable. The ops isn't."

G stepped back several feet. "I thought she approved of our relationship."

"She does, but the ops is more important than us."

"Screw that, no way, you're more important than any ops."

Sam sighed again. "I'm not making myself clear," he said. "If you don't go on this ops, there will be no relationship."

"Because she'll fire you or me."

"No, damn it, you need to go on this ops, G, because the health and future of our relationship depends on it."

"I'm confused." Tears welled up in his sapphire blue eyes threatening to spill onto his cheeks. _Damned if I do, damned if I do not._

"Maybe I shouldn't have—"

Tears fell on his cheeks. "No, stop, I think I understand." _I hate it, but I understand what Hetty means. _"I don't know if I can handle this ops. But if I don't go on it, I'm screwed."

"No, as soon as you return to this hotel room you're screwed." Sam grinned wide.

"Can't you be serious about this?"

"No, turn around and let me wash you." He pressed G into the shower wall face first and soaped up his hands. "Time to prepare you for the ops."

"No, time to get me worked up and horny and then send me out the door." The left corner of his mouth turned slightly upward.

Sam pulled his lover backward into his body. "You know you like it, so stop resisting my magic touch." He stroked his soapy hands across his lover's nipples. A low moan escaped from G's lips. "Yeah, another couple of minutes of this, and we'll be back in bed making love to each other for the last time before your ops."

"You need to stop." He released another long moan accompanied by a deep hissing noise. "I need to call Hetty and tell her."

"And I need 30 more minutes with your sexy body before you call her." Sam finished bathing his lover and then rinsed him under the cascading water. "Let's finish this in the bedroom."

G grabbed the towel his lover handed him and dried himself. "Finish what?"

"I'm dressing your sexy body for the ops."

His eyes widened.

"While you suck on another popsicle," Sam said. "Which flavor would you like?"

He smacked his lips. "Orange cream."

"You're asking for it."

"Yep, and I hope you plan to deliver with more than a popsicle." He followed Sam into the bedroom and started to sit.

"Nope, stand and wait for me to return."

He returned in less than two minutes with an orange cream popsicle. "What I was trying to say was, don't back out now."

"I'm not gonna back out of this ops," G said. He needed to follow through with this ops. His career as an undercover ops agent depended on this course. That did not mean backing out had not crossed his mind several times in the past twenty-four hours. His thoughts were filled with numerous ways to tell Hetty he decided to not follow through with the ops. Yet in the end, he knew his only option was going rogue and coming face to face with Brad Gowan, his former supervisor at the DEA. He dreaded this ops and the possible consequences of meeting with a man who had abused, tortured, drugged, and programmed him.

"G?"

Damn. "Thinking."

"Don't hurt yourself." Sam winked at him.

G wrestled his lover onto the bed and grabbed the popsicle from his hand and sucked on it.

"Hungry."

"Very."

"Talkative too, one word sentences."

"Damn."

"There you go again," Sam said, "stand up and let me dress you."

"About those skivvies…"

"What about them?"

"Do I need to wear them?"

"Your choice, but remember why you're wearing them: To remind you of our relationship and what I plan to do with you at NCIS Headquarters."

G released one of his more noisier sighs.

"Talk to me, man."

He licked and sucked on his popsicle. "I guess I'm resigned to doing this as much as I'm resigned to the ops."

Sam grabbed his lover's hand and pressed the popsicle into his own mouth, sucking and licking it up and down. He paid close attention to the tip, swiping his tongue across it several times.

G shook his head. "Uncle."

"Stand, sexy."

"Damn." He took the popsicle back and licked up and down its length.

"Tease," Sam said.

G stood and waited for his lover's next instructions.

"Place the popsicle in your mouth and raise your arms over your head." After his lover did as he was asked, Sam dressed him in the sleeveless, ocean blue t-shirt. "Damn, you're hot and sexy in that muscle T. I can't wait until you come home from your ops. I'll have my way with you and shower you with kisses and cherry popsicles."

"Talk about a one track mind."

Sam pulled the popsicle out of his lover's mouth and sucked on it and released it. "Yep, lie back on the bed." Sam returned the popsicle to G. He dressed his lover in the matching ocean blue G-string. "Now that is hot, turn over and keep sucking on your popsicle." Sam laid on him lengthwise, licking and sucking on his lover's neck. "I think I have sufficiently marked you again. You taste better than any popsicle."

"I hope so."

"Stand again." Sam helped him off the bed. "Legs apart while I place your ankle holster."

G gave his lover a noisy sigh. "I need to call Hetty."

"I'm behind you 100%."

"Yeah, you love that position." The corners of his mouth turned upward. G took the phone from Sam and gave him the popsicle. He dialed Hetty's number and waited until she answered. "I'll be ready in 20 minutes."

"Glad you called Mr. Callen, I was beginning to wonder if you had decided to back out of this ops."

"Thought about it more than once." G refrained from telling her how he really felt. This ops was not his choice. Now he fully understood why it was not acceptable nor healthy for an undercover ops agent to investigate his own case.

"I know you'll do fine."

He swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Tell Mr. Hanna I'll contact him via the designated burn phone."

G heard the line go dead and switched off his phone. Afterward he performed the ritual of removing the smart card, destroying it, and throwing the pieces of the phone into a waste basket less than five feet in front of him. "She'll contact you by the burn phone."

Sam finished fastening and seating the black leather, ankle holster. "Sexy." He straightened.

"You must like men with guns."

"Yep, turns me on every time, especially men with sapphire blue eyes and well built bodies who are rogue agents."

"I wonder where you might find one." G smirked.

Sam drew him into an embrace and kissed his lover. "Right here in my arms," he said. "Sit." Sam dressed his lover in a new pair of jeans with wider legs than he usually wore. "Try out the holster in different positions."

G bent over and slid his hand down his left leg. "That doesn't work for me."

"Let me switch it, I forgot you're not a south paw." Sam grinned wide. "Okay, now work it."

He bent over again and tried the repositioned holster on his right ankle. "Perfect." G laid on his back and tried reaching for the holster. "I guess that will work. I've never used one, but always wanted to try it out."

"I bought one for myself too." Sam placed the unloaded S & W 640 in the holster. "Go for it."

G twisted his body and reached for the snubbed nose handgun. "Yeah, this will do nicely." He replaced it in the holster, stood and reached for it again. "Great, only one problem."

"And?"

"Those skivvies ride up my ass crack." G smirked, cracking a wry smile.

Sam roared with laughter and wrestled his lover onto the bed. "Here suck on this and keep your mouth busy." He pressed the popsicle into his lover's mouth.

G licked the length of the popsicle and sucked into his mouth, biting off several inches before pushing it out of his mouth with his tongue.

"Is that how you want to play this game?" Sam sucked the remainder into his mouth and ate it. Afterward he obscenely licked and smacked his lips while ogling his lover.

"I do."

"Tease."

"I hope I'm wearing more than this sleeveless t-shirt."

"Sit up and let me finish dressing you." Sam pulled a drawer open and presented G with another ocean blue t-shirt this time with long sleeves and a looser fit.

"Glad you didn't try to make me wear one of those skintight t-shirts."

"And the finishing touch…" Sam dressed G in a black leather jacket. "You look hot and sexy in these clothes."

"You're hopelessly in love with me and my body."

"Yep." He crouched down and placed socks and working boots on his lover's feet. "Stand and see if you can move freely to grab the weapon in your ankle holster."

G attempted several different tactics to reach for his ankle holster and weapon. "Tackle me onto the bed on my back. I need to try out something." Sam wrestled him onto his back. G struggled to reach for his S & W, trying several tactics to find the easiest move which enabled him to grab the handgun from the holster while his lover wrestled him nonstop simulating a possible scenario Brad could perpetrate on him. His last attempt resulted in the weapon aimed at Sam's groin.

"Aw, you got me," he said, grabbing his crotch and falling backward onto the bed.

G straddled his lover's waist and pressed into him lengthwise, passionately kissing Sam. "I think I better stop." He pulled back breathless from his attack on his lover's mouth.

"You mean before I have to strip off all your clothes," Sam said.

"Yeah." He rolled off his lover and climbed off the bed. G stood before the full-length, oak framed mirror in one corner of the bedroom, admiring how Sam had dressed him.

"You like?" He surrounded his lover's waist with both arms and drew him backward into his body.

"I do."

"That color of blue brings out the sapphire blue in your eyes." Sam nuzzled G's neck. "Time to fill this handgun with bullets." He removed it from his lover's hands. "Feel ready?"

"Yeah, as ready as I'll ever be."

"You've got your secret agent underwear on and that should save the day."

"Yeah." He cracked a wry smile.

Sam nibbled and sucked on G's earlobe. "Remember to focus on us and what we'll do as soon as you return to the hotel suite." He released his lover and strode back to the bedside and sat, loading up his lover's S & W 640. "Come over here and lift up your jacket and shirts. If I leave this off, he'll go searching for your concealed weapon." He positioned G's waist holster and buckled it into place. "Here's the decoy." Sam filled his lover's main gun with bullets and placed the gun in the back of the waist holster. "I expect him to take this from you immediately. He's a DEA agent first and a perpetrator second." He tucked his lover's shirts back into his pants and straightened his leather jacket. "One last accessory, a burn phone." Sam handed it to his lover who pocketed in his left pants pocket.

G strode back to the mirror and posed in front of it with his legs slightly apart. He stared past himself into the mirror, seeing the man he would soon meet, who had stolen too much of his life. Now G wanted it back. He prepared his mind for as many possible scenarios as his memory could hold. The scenes played on his mind as if they were the reel to reel movies from years ago, frame by frame.

This time Sam stood back and watched his lover prepare himself for the coming ops. He knew by the mien on G's face that he was rehearsing several scenarios in his head.

Normally, he and his partner were fly-by-the-seat-of-their-pants undercover agents and never rehearsed before setting out on their ops. A rogue DEA agent necessitated a different protocol for an ops preparation. At times such as these, he wished he could get inside his lover's head too, seeing what he saw. "I'm surprised Hetty didn't ask you for a name."

G eyed his lover and partner in the full-length mirror. "A name?"

"Who you're supposed to assassinate."

"POTUS."

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><p>Thank you for reading my story.<p> 


	18. Rogue Agents, Ch 17

My apologies for the huge delay in posting this chapter. Two more chapters to go.

Carrie, I'd love to see G in an ocean blue G-string too.

Thank you for the reviews. I love, love, love reviews.

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Rogue Agents<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Rogue Agents<strong>

**Chapter 17**

Within five minutes after stepping outside the hotel lobby's front doors into the frigid night air, a sickeningly sweet smell overwhelmed G's nostrils from a hand covering his nose with a chloroform soaked cloth. A needle pierced the skin on the side of his neck. Brad Gowan was up to his customary routine of dirty tricks. G grabbed for the hand attached to the syringe. Instead, his arms were forced hard behind his back. He was flipped around and shoved face first into a brick wall. One hand held his hands in place at the mid-back area, while the other removed the gun from his waist holster. No pat down. G breathed out a sigh of relief. One hurdle overcome. A new hurdle added, sedation with chloroform. Damn. He hoped Brad had refrained from giving him too much of the drug. Maybe it was just enough to subdue him.

His assailant guided him toward a car and pushed him down on the front seat. "Do I need to gag you?"

G shook his head. The combined effect of the two sedatives caused his head to feel as if it were stuck in a fish tank.

"Good, you remembered what I need from you." Brad forced his captive's hands up to the headrest and handcuffed them to it. "If this gets uncomfortable I'm sure you'll let me know."

Now he hoped that the asshole would not touch him on the way to wherever he was taking him.

"I knew you'd come to see me in DC, Callen."

G knew what Brad meant by that; he came because of the programming to see his programmer. He allowed his captor to believe whatever he wanted to believe. No reason to make the guy angry. Brad used to terrify him when he got angry. It was as if something warped and sadistic had awakened inside the guy. While G was drugged Brad appeared to be the most menacing. At least, he believed that was the truth at that time. Now, the circumstances were different. G had remembered most of the abuse, torture, and programming which had been perpetrated on him. He had an altered viewpoint and it changed everything. Brad's behavior no longer had the same affect on him. Now, G needed to keep his emotions in check, especially his anger.

"We're going to my cabin in the hills of Virginia," Brad said. "You'll enjoy it. It's far enough away from civilization to give us the privacy we need to continue our intimate relationship."

G wanted to vomit hearing his captor's words. Enjoying something Brad planned to do with him was not exactly the word he had in mind. It was more revulsion than enjoyment. The thought of Brad's hands on his body nauseated him. He willed himself to keep calm within. The perfect moment to attack his assailant and subdue him would soon present itself. He needed to be ready for that moment. Thirty minutes later his arms started to go numb. He attempted to reposition them to get the blood circulating again.

"I see you need an adjustment." Brad pulled off on the road's shoulder and stopped the car. He released the handcuffs and brought his captive's arms onto his lap and handcuffed them there. "How's the drug working?"

"Fine." The single word was a signal to his abuser that he would cooperate with his wishes.

"Excellent, you'll be ready and willing by the time we reach my cabin."

G swallowed down the bitter tasting bile which had begun to travel up to the back of his throat, threatening to erupt into his mouth.

"Just a little while longer."

Brad was not the he-man Sam was. He was a strong though. Drugs, programming, and sadistic abuse comprised Brad's areas of expertise. His captor was a tall, lanky, balding man now in his early 50s. G remembered the drugs and their affect on his thoughts and the sensation of touch. Everything was accentuated. If he did not wait long enough for the effects of the drug to wear off, his ops would be a failure. He shivered inwardly. G did not look forward to the next quarter of an hour as the drug deepened its affect on his body. The hallucinations alone were a bitch. He relaxed as much as he dare in the passenger's seat, keeping tabs on the whereabouts of Brad's hands. G loathed any touch by his captor. It was the last thing he wanted, lashing out at any touch was one part of his plan.

"Not overly talkative, that's the way I like my men, obedient and quiet, and waiting for my next instruction." Brad turned off the two lane highway and entered a rutted dirt lane.

His men? How many were there? _Maybe I am not the only one he has abused, tortured, and programmed like this._

"Here we are." Brad pulled up to a quaint, white one and half story cottage with a white picket fence and stopped. He came around to the passenger side of the car and pulled his prisoner out of it by his handcuffed wrists.

"Fuck!" G shrieked. "Bastard, that hurt." He winced and jerked backward.

"Ah, there's some life in you after all." He dragged his prisoner toward the wraparound porch.

"I'm serious, damn you, this hurts."

"It shouldn't."

Something was wrong. It should not have hurt as it was. Pains shot across his chest and centered in the sternum area along the left side. G stopped short of the stairs up to the front porch and raised his hands to his chest and rubbed it. "What the hell did you give me?"

"Now comes the complaining, is that it?"

"Screw you, Brad, all I want to know is what you gave me, and if it could cause this pain." G yelled at him.

"No, the regular stuff and it doesn't affect the heart."

He grimaced. "It's not my heart, bastard, it's my chest."

"Let me see it." Brad stepped forward to touch him.

G backed up several feet and lost his balance. He fell ass first on the lawn.

"Let me help you off the—"

"Get your damned hands off me!"

"You don't have to get pissed at me when I'm trying to help you," Brad said.

G turned to his side and kneeled trying to stand. It was not working well, because of the drug Brad had given him. Damn it. This time when Brad reached down to help him up, G did not protest. Again searing pain flashed across his chest and centered mid sternum. He flinched and pulled his handcuffed hands up to his chest again. Crap. G winced and fought the urge to cry out. The pain had worsened and was close to unbearable. He told himself to hold on a while longer and endure it. The mantra worked for now. He doubted it would last for long.

Brad grasped his wrists again and guided him up the stairs to the porch. He unlocked the side door and pushed his prisoner through the opening, turning the lights on as he passed light switches. He lead his captive to the basement door and keyed a pad to open it. G memorized the number sequence. Brad lead his prisoner down the basement steps and stood him in the center of a room which spanned the length and width of the house, about 1500 square feet.

G swayed from the effects of the drugs. The air was cool in the cement walled and floored basement. He scanned the room and its contents. A torture chamber with every type of accoutrement a torturer and programmer would love to own was arranged in plain sight to his left. Needles. Syringes. Drugs. Whips. Chains connected to the walls with huge eye-hooks. Electrodes. Water boarding and other similar torturing tools. G shivered again, this time from remembering a time here in the basement years ago. A faint sweat and bodily fluid odor permeated the air in the direction of the accoutrements. The familiar odors triggered a flashback. G cringed.

"You like my collection I see," Brad said. "The ultimate paraphernalia that every man such as myself would love to have and use on his prisoner." A self-satisfied look passed over his face.

G swallowed hard and at the same time fought the growing pain within his chest.

"Time for your first lesson of the night," he said. "Let's hope I don't have to take this too far to get the desired results; your complete cooperation as a rogue agent working for me and my anonymous partner." He grasped G's handcuffed wrists and pulled him over to a steel table.

It was now or never. Soon all his clothes would be removed and his captor would find the second handgun. "You don't have to do this," G said.

"I don't?" Brad asked.

"No."

"What makes you believe that?"

"I decided to go rogue."

Brad's eyes widened. "Since when and why didn't you inform me sooner."

"All this," he said, eyeing the instruments of torture, "helped me make up my mind. I was close to saying yes. This paraphernalia was the deciding factor."

"Fear does it every time." Brad sneered.

"Yes, it does." G hoped he sounded convincing. With the growing pain in his chest, his voice was no longer the strong and confident as he had wished it could be. He sighed which came out as if it were a staccato shudder.

"Ah, the sound of resignation," Brad said, "Excellent, let's get you out of those handcuffs. They won't be necessary any longer." He took a key from his pocket and unlocked the handcuffs.

G massaged the skin where the metal had rubbed reddened circles around his wrists.

"Come and sit over here and let's talk about the mission."

He noticed the difference in Brad's voice, now it was jovial and light. The man was ecstatic that G had changed his mind. This change in behavior supported the theory that his captor was a narcissist as he had first presumed, and Hetty and Sam had agreed. This was all about Brad and no one else. G sat in a well worn, black leather chair across from his captor who sat in a similar chair. He waited for the next opportunity. G hoped the drug's affects on his thoughts would wear off enough that he could make his move. He noticed the hallucinations were not as severe this time. A good sign that Brad had chosen to give him a reduced dose of the medicine.

"This is a pleasant and unexpected surprise," he said. "Can you imagine how much less torture you would've endured had you acquiesced sooner? Oh well, at least you've done it now and given me what I need, a compliant and obedient soldier for my cause."

A soldier? His cause? What the hell? "I'll do what you want as long as you don't harm another hair on my head or body for that matter."

"Ah, I see," he said, "already campaigning for _your_ cause. If you fully cooperate, I see no need for any more torture. Pleasure though, that's a different story." He sneered.

G cringed and grimaced.

"Shall we get started?" Brad stood and paced the room for less than a minute. He faced his prisoner. "We need to train you in long range, marksmanship."

"Already done."

"When?"

"Part of my training I took to join NCIS," G said.

"And how did you fair?"

"Top in my class."

"Fabulous!" His jovial mood escalated: Brad almost danced around the room, a wide smile stretching his lips upward in an almost clown-like, painted on, exaggerated simper.

G wanted to vomit seeing the mien on his captor's face. It reminded him of the Joker's leer in a Batman movie. This was the face Brad often showed after finishing a torture session.

"Your choice of weapons?"

"I have a favorite," he said, playing along with his captor for the moment, "a H&K PSG-1 7.62 X 51 mm NATO with a Hendsoldt 6x42 sight."

"Interesting choice."

"The most accurate, semi-automatic sharpshooter weapon in the world." In his head, G was devising a way to trip up Brad, literally. The side effects from the drug had worn off for the most part. He needed to keep the flashbacks in check in order to function well enough to take Brad down. For some reason, sitting in the chair had almost eliminated the chest pain. G was thankful for that.

"Well, it appears you've studied your options, and that makes me utterly ecstatic over this mission."

G smiled to himself. This guy was more full of himself than he had remembered. Brad edged closer to G's chair as he paced the room with a haphazard movement. When his captor passed closer to him, G thrust out his legs, pushing Brad's knees from behind thus shoving him forward.

Brad lost his balance and started to fall. His feet slid out from underneath him. He grabbed onto the mahogany desk, which was positioned between the two leather chairs, attempting to steady himself.

At that moment, G slid his right hand down his right leg. In one swift movement, he removed his S & W 640 snubbed nose handgun from its holster and pointed it at Brad's head. "Don't move you mother fucker." He yelled at the sadistic man. The sudden movement of reaching for his gun renewed the pain in his chest. He winced and pressed his left hand into his chest.

Brad stared at the gun in his prisoner's hand and sneered. "You think you can take me down with that pathetic, puny pistol," he said, sneering.

G shot off one round hitting his captor in the groin.

He clenched his crotch and screamed. "Bastard!" Brad slumped to the floor still holding his crotch. "I ought to kill you."

"It's no puny pistol, asshole, it's one of the most powerful handguns for its size." It was his turn to gloat over his good fortune. "You had your chance to kill me a thousand times over."

"Now what?" He asked, clutching his crotch and panting.

"Now, you're gonna tell me who this other person is," G said.

"No way in hell is that happening." Brad grimaced.

G pulled the trigger halfway back.

"Don't man, don't do this again."

"Tell me who the man is."

"You have to give me protection."

"I don't have to do anything, asshole, either you tell me or I shoot you again," G said.

"He works for the US government," Brad said, panting and grimacing.

"I figured that, give me a name."

"No."

G scanned the accoutrements for some rope. He stood and strode to the steel table where Brad had wanted to torture him earlier and took the rope off it. A flashback seared through his mind. G swayed from the after effects of the piece of memory. Damn it. _I need to hold it together for a while longer. _"Here comes the fun part." G turned back to Brad and grabbed his bloodied hands, tying them together in front.

"Are you leaving me here?" Brad asked, his voice cracking from obvious pain and blood loss.

"You're worried about being alone."

"No, dying alone."

"Yep, if it looks like a duck and sounds like a duck, it's a duck."

"What?"

"A narcissist." G sighed. "All you ever cared about was yourself and your own damn needs." He kicked Brad hard in the groin just below where he shot him.

Brad shrieked and cried out, tears flooding his eyes.

"How does it feel now to be the one suffering with the threat of being left to die alone?"

"Please don't, I'm begging you."

"You can beg me all you want, I love hearing you beg." G sneered at him. He parroted the very words his perpetrator had said to him too many times to count. G hoisted his prisoner off the cold cement floor and dragged his limp and bloodied body up the basement stairs. Halfway, the searing pain in his chest resumed again. G paused waiting for the pain to subside. Another flashback ripped through his defenses, threatening to crush his resolve. He pushed away the accompanying nausea and pressed onward, dragging Brad with him. At the top of the stairs, he entered the code into the small keypad to the left of the door and pushed the door open into an alcove off the kitchen. "Where's your keys to the car?"

"Center console," Brad said, breathless.

"You'd better not be lying to me." He pulled his prisoner out through the front door and onto the wraparound porch. G stopped on the first step and panted trying to will the pain to subside.

"You need me to look at that for you?"

"What?" He shot him a look.

"You're bleeding," Brad said, pointing at G's chest.

He stared down at his chest. "It's nothing." As wounds go, the blood seeping from his chest was minimal. The pain was the worst of it this time.

"Blood means something—"

"Shut the hell up and keep your hands to yourself!" G yelled at him. "Where's my cell phone?"

"I tossed it in the backseat somewhere."

"Tossed it?" He kicked his prisoner in the groin again. "I need specifics."

Brad grabbed his groin with his tied hands. "What are you trying to do—" Tears readily flowed down his face.

"Shut up and quit your belly aching, you've got nothing to cry about."

"Nothing? You shot me."

G pushed him down the stairs and watched Brad tumble down the remaining four steps, hitting the grass face first. "Get up, now!"

He struggled to a sitting position and stared up at his captor.

"I like the role reversal." G hoisted Brad off the grass and pushed him the short distance to the car.

"No cell phone reception here," he said.

"I figured that already, bastard." He brought his prisoner over to the passenger side of the black Lexus. "Nice car. Too bad you're gonna bloody it and ruin the expensive, leather upholstery." G shoved him against the door and made an adjustment to the rope, wrapping it around Brad's neck in a figure eight by looping it back around his hands. He secured it around his wrists. "Move those hands and you choke yourself. If you move your body anywhere, but right here where I place you, I'll shoot you in the groin again."

"You don't have to shoot me there again, I'll do what you want."

G pushed him back about two feet and opened the backdoor to the Lexus. No cell phone. He flipped on his heels and got in Brad's face. "Where's the damned cell phone?"

He shrunk backward. "I thought I threw it in the backseat."

"Thought?" G sighed. He opened the front passenger door, and grabbed the keys out of the center console. "With me," he said, ordering his prisoner to follow him. He opened the trunk and stared at the paraphernalia inside. "How many men do you screw around with?" G asked, turning to face him.

"Please, this is my personal stash of—"

"You're one crazy, fucked up man," he said. "You got a wife and kids?"

"Yeah, damn it, please you can't tell them. They don't know. They never knew."

"They don't know you have a secret life torturing and raping and programming men."

Brad visibly shook. "No."

"Great collateral," he said. "You tell me the name of the person and his job and his position with you. I'll keep this collection a secret from your family."

"I can't." He stuttered and shook.

"Afraid the guy will come after you?"

"If I divulged anything about the operation, he promised he'd eliminate me and my family."

"About that witness protection you wanted, I'll make a deal if you tell me all about this man."

Brad sighed and lowered his head.

"You poor thing, suffering like that." G pressed the barrel of the snubbed nose handgun into the side of his prisoner's head. "This gun doesn't have a hammer. No cocking sound when I pull the trigger."

"Please, don't kill me, don't hurt my family."

"Your wife doesn't know you screw men."

He nodded.

"Shame on you for pretending to be her lawfully wedded husband." G switched positions with his gun pressing it into his prisoner's groin. He fired off another round.

Brad fell to the dirt driveway shrieking and writhing.

G watched him for less than a minute and resumed the search for his cell phone. It was in the backseat after all, hidden under the driver's front seat. He checked for reception. None. Damn. He crossed back over to the passenger side and helped Brad off the dirt driveway and settled him into the passenger seat without a seatbelt. "You gonna tell me how to get back to the city or die on the side of the road, alone."

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><p><strong># # #<strong>

* * *

><p>G entered the highway and drove toward the lights of the city. He glanced over at Brad again. His passenger was closer to death than when he started driving. "Directions, asshole."<p>

"Turn right at the first light," he said, grimacing with each breath.

"How's the shoe fitting on your foot?"

"All I wanted was to make love to you."

"Don't make me hurl all over your bloodied groin," G said. "You've got no idea what real love is. Everything is about you. What you need. What you want. Who you are. Your agenda. Not once did you show me real love. Screw you."

Brad sighed and leaned against the passenger door frame.

"Tired of hearing me rant?" He asked. "It's my turn to rattle your cage. I'm done hearing about your needs and wants and desires." G leaned forward over the steering wheel. The act diminished the searing pain in his chest. Although, it made it difficult to drive.

"You should have that looked at before—"

"Shut up, just shut up, damn it," G screamed at him. "You don't care about me. All you care about is that I won't be available to carry out your crazy, fucked up mission. I wasn't gonna do it anyhow." He glanced sideways at his suffering perpetrator. "You didn't know it. I love my country. I'd never do anything to jeopardize my career."

G hung a conservative right at the traffic light. He learned from his accident to slow down when making turns. With his left hand on the steering wheel, he held his burn phone between his right index finger and thumb, checking for a change in reception. The moment his cell was within range again, he scanned the road and searched for a place to pull off the road. The two lane highway merged into a four lane highway and the road's edge widened. G picked a spot and turned off the road, parking the black Lexus.

He climbed out of car and drew his weapon. G dialed Hetty's number and waited.

"Mr. Callen."

"Hetty, I have him," he said. "He claims to have an accomplice. I am about to find out the identity of this man."

"This is your ops."

G knew what that meant: handle Brad however you wish. That was both a blessing and a curse. In his mind, G considered several different outcomes. Though he had not settled upon one. Ultimately, he wished he could torture his prisoner as he was tortured. By shooting Brad in the groin twice, G had partially fulfilled his need to torture him. But going further down the path of torture as not an option. _This is as rogue as I want to go_. "Understood." He pocketed his cell phone with it still connected to Hetty and stared at Brad sitting in the Lexus. What suited him best was exposing this creep on every level, show the DEA and NCIS who he was. He considered his next step. Brad's paraphernalia.

G opened the passenger door. "Get out." He yanked his bleeding prisoner out by his hair and dragged him to the car's trunk. After opening it, he pushed Brad forward. "You're a disgusting, pathetic man hiding all this paraphernalia and gay pornography from your family and the DEA. Nobody ever knew about your proclivity toward men. Nobody ever knew about your need to overpower and abuse them."

"Please don't tell anyone about this," Brad said, trembling.

"Don't tell anyone that you're a sniveling, pathetic abuser who gets his kicks by programming and torturing men."

"Please, I have a family, a wife and children."

"Who don't know anything about the real Brad Gowan."

"Yes, you've got to help me keep this hidden."

"Fine," G said, agreeing with his former supervisor.

"There's a catch, there's always a catch."

"Are you referring to one of your sicko, disgusting mind control games?" G asked, not expecting an answer. "I'll make a deal on one condition, you provide me with the name of the man who is the _other_ rogue agent besides yourself."

"Anything, but exposing this to my family." Brad sighed and slumped against the side of the trunk.

G hoped it would be this easy. But he knew his perpetrator well. "First a confession."

"Of what?"

"Describe what you did to me," he said.

"I don't have all night."

"I do." G glared at him. "Talk."

"All right." He shuddered. "I programmed and tortured and abused you."

"Programmed me to do what? Abused me how? Tortured me?"

"Damn it, I did too much and this will take too long."

"Tough." G pointed his S & W 640 at Brad Gowan's chest. He pulled the trigger halfway back. "Talk, now. The abuse." He sighed, getting disgusted with his former supervisor's stalling.

"Forced you to have sex with me."

"And?"

"Withheld pleasure from you."

"And?" G asked.

"Trained and used you as a male escort."

"The torture."

"Used whatever means available to get you to follow through on the programming."

"Drugs."

"To make you compliant and easily moldable."

"The other rogue agent's name."

"Matthew Dennis, the White House Chief of Staff," Brad said, breathless.

"What is his role?"

"Damn it, I don't dare say anything more."

G shoved the gun into Brad's temple. "Are you telling me you're finished talking to me?"

"What do you want me to say?"

He pressed the muzzle of his weapon into his former supervisor's temple. "Who is Matthew Dennis and how did you get connected with him?"

Brad sighed deep and shuddered. "He and his organization hired me to create a rogue agent to assassinate POTUS."

"Who's the rogue agent, Brad Gowan?"

"You, Mr. Callen, I programmed and tortured and abused you to become that rogue agent."

"Program anyone else?"

"Damn, I hand picked a team from the DEA," he said. "I programmed them to carry out whatever was necessary to entrap and force you to comply with my programming."

"Attempted murder?"

Brad swallowed hard. "Several times, but it was necessary to make you listen to what I needed."

"Kneel."

"Please don't do this."

"Shut up. Face away from me. Kneel." G sighed. Now it came down to this one act. The execution-style killing of his former supervisor at the DEA. "One more thing. Where is my gun?"

"Under the driver's side front seat."

G Callen aimed his weapon at the back of Brad Gowan's head. He pulled the trigger on his Smith & Wesson 640 snubbed nose handgun.

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><p>Thank you for reading my story.<p> 


	19. Awards, Ch 18

****Thank you for the reviews!

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Rogue Agents<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>Awards and Rewards<strong>

**Chapter 18**

G placed the safety on his snubbed nose handgun and holstered it at his ankle. He removed the cell phone from his pocket. "Did you get that all, Hetty?"

"Yes, Mr. Callen, thank you," she said. "Your partner is aware of your location and is on his way there. ETA less than five minutes. The NCIS DC team is in route, ETA approximately the same time frame. I'll see you back in Los Angeles for a debriefing after the ops is mopped up."

"Yes, Hetty, good-bye." He switched off his phone. G strode over to the driver's side of the car, opened the door. He found his weapon under the front seat where Brad had said it would be. After closing the driver's side door, G tucked his weapon into its holster at his waist. He strode over to the passenger's side of the car and reclined against the front fender and waited for Sam's arrival. G shivered and zipped up his leather jacket. The memory loomed closer. Damn.

The NCIS DC team and Sam pulled up to his location at the same time.

G released a breath he had not realized he was holding. He never thought he would be _this_ happy to see his partner and lover. Sam stepped out of the rental car and rushed over to his partner and lover. They hugged each other for several minutes before parting. Each had a sheepish grin on their face. "Guess we better refrain from kissing each other," G said.

"I don't know much longer I can hold off showing you my amorous affection," Sam said, winking at him.

"Damn."

"Let me check out the crime scene with the NCIS team."

"The real crime scene is back at his cabin."

Sam glanced at him sideways.

"A torture chamber for a programmer." G cringed and squeezed his eyes shut. He faced the fender and placed his hands on it, trying to find some stability.

"You okay?"

"Crap, no." He shivered hard. "I've been to that house before this time."

"You just now remembered."

"The flashbacks started at the house."

"What do you need from me?"

"Take me back to the hotel," G said, opening his eyes. "I need to get away from all this. Now."

Sam slipped an arm around his partner's waist and guided him back to their rental car. "Sit and I'll be back in a moment." He opened the passenger door and this time he did not care what the NCIS DC team thought. Sam helped G into the car, kissed him, fastened his seat belt, and kissed him a second time.

"I see you're not waiting." He wrapped his arms around his partner's neck and drew him down for a kiss.

"Hell no, I missed you last night."

"I missed you too."

Sam closed the door and strode back to the crime scene. After he said his farewells, he headed back to the Challenger. He climbed into the driver's seat and started to buckle up. It is when he noticed his partner's breathing was off. "G?"

"Tired."

"I think this is more than tired."

"Yeah, but I don't want to go anywhere near a hospital."

"Where are you injured?"

"Please just take me back to the hotel."

"The truth."

G released a long, shaky sigh and pointed to his chest.

Sam unzipped his partner's leather jacket. Blood. Some fresh, some dried. He shuddered. "We need to go to the hospital, sorry."

"Damn it, no." G pleaded with his eyes.

"Can't chance it," he said. "Did he shoot you?"

"No, he pulled on my handcuffed arms," he said. "I felt something move in my chest."

"What?" Sam raised his left eyebrow. "This doesn't sound good." He buckled his seat belt and started the Challenger's engine. After pulling along side the NCIS DC team, Sam leaned out the window. "I need a suggestion for a hospital."

Jethro came over to the passenger side of the car.

G rolled down his window.

"Sorry I gave you that shot and injected you with that tracking device against your will," Jethro said.

"I'm glad you did, thanks," G said. "All's forgiven."

They shook each other's hands.

Sam leaned over closer to Jethro. "Got a suggestion."

"For this guy here, none, he doesn't like hospitals," Jethro said, winking at G. He glanced at this cell phone and scrolled down to a number. A map of DC came up on the screen. "Director Vance requested that you be taken to this hospital."

G's jaw dropped. "But—"

"No arguing about this," Sam said. "I know exactly where that is. Thanks."

"I do too and you're not taking me there." G rolled up his window.

"You're gonna go if I have to put you over my shoulder and take you into the ED myself."

"He-man. Alpha male. Tough guy. Bruiser. Macho man."

"Whatever, man," Sam said, raising his left eyebrow high.

"Got you!" G said. "Heartthrob." He grinned wide.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>G and Sam strode through the doors of George Washington University Hospital's Emergency Department.<p>

"Glad you decided to cooperate," Sam said.

"Glad you decided not to pick me up, macho man." G winked at him.

"Damn, when we get back to the hotel suite, you'd better run."

"What if I want you to catch me?"

"You're asking for it," Sam said.

"Yep, missed it last night."

"And not me?"

"That too," G said, glancing at him sideways as they neared the check-in desk.

"He has an injury of an unknown type to the chest area," Sam said, sounding as if he were an official.

G loved Sam's all business voice. This was a macho man whether his partner liked it or not. It was the persona which would battle any foe to protect him. G moved closer to his partner.

Sam placed his arm around his partner's waist and drew him into his side. "We'll need a secure room." He handed the woman at the desk his ID. It was not the official NCIS ID as they were still undercover.

"No problem, I received a call a few minutes ago informing me of your pending arrival," she said. "Right this way."

G made brief eye contact with Sam before they followed her. "Pending arrival?" He kept his voice low.

"Yeah, this is peculiar."

"Though not unusual for this particular hospital," G said. This was the hospital of choice for dignitaries, politicians, and federal law enforcement. "But still—" His jaw dropped when he entered the ED cubicle.

Several secret service agents flashed their badges as POTUS stepped forward from behind the privacy curtain. "Gentlemen, your stay is on us, the US government," the President said.

"I, thank you, what can I do for you, Mr. President?"

"You've already done that, Mr. Callen," he said. "It's time for you to receive the best care."

"I'm at a loss for words."

"The man Brad Gowan implicated _was_ my White House Chief of Staff and a suspected mole," the President said. "I had him under investigation for several years. I needed proof and couldn't find it. You, Mr. Callen, blew the case wide open. I am in your debt."

"Thank you, Mr. President."

"No, thank you," he said. "As part of my gratitude toward your excellent service for our country, I requested congress award you two medals. The Homeland Security Medal and the National Security and International Affairs Medal. I realize you're unable to accept these awards in a formal ceremony. I'll present them to you here tomorrow afternoon."

G's jaw dropped. He was speechless.

Sam wrapped his arm around his partner's waist. "Thank you, Mr. President."

"I'll leave you now to get some well needed treatment and rest." He reached out his hand.

G took the President's hand and shook it. Afterward, he watched the secret service agents and the President leave the ED treatment room.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>"A hero and my hero," Sam said, leaning down and cupping G's face in both hands and kissing him. "And when we get back to our hotel suite, you'll receive a reward too."<p>

"I'm looking forward to that."

A nurse appeared at the doorway and cleared her throat.

G and Sam stepped away from each other.

"Mr. Doe, please dress in this gown and lie down on the bed," she said. "A doctor will be in shortly to assess your condition."

G took the hospital gown from her and she left.

"That reddish glow becomes you, sweetheart."

"Damn." He sat on the bed and undressed. "I hope this doesn't mean I'm staying here very long."

"You heard POTUS, at least until tomorrow."

"You know I hate hospitals."

"Yep, me too."

"I never knew."

"Where do think I got all those medical supplies?" Sam said. "I convinced them I didn't want to stay. That I could take care of myself."

"You know how to spin a story."

"That's two."

"Two what?"

"Wise ass jokes."

"What are planning to do with me, heartthrob?"

Sam shook his head several times. "Keep that ocean blue G-string on."

"No way in—"

"Payback, G, keep those on."

"Sam!"

"I wouldn't protest too loudly, someone will hear you and come running."

G removed the ocean blue muscle T. "Damn it." He dressed in the aqua toned hospital gown.

"Hey, that matches your skivvies."

"Stop it,"

"Payback's a bitch, isn't it?"

G sighed and laid back in bed waiting for the doctor.

Sam took his partner's clothes and placed them in a patient bag.

A doctor with a wrestler-type body build sauntered into G's ED cubicle. "The President told me to take excellent care of you," he said. "He says you're a hero, Mr. Doe. Let's see that chest injury." The doctor donned a pair of exam gloves and drew down his patient's hospital gown. He examined an area about half the size of G's fist at mid sternum. "I'll need this cleaned up to see what's going on with it. Caked on dried blood. Some fresh blood. A nurse will come into clean this up. And I will see you as soon as he's finished."

G watched the guy leave. "So far so good."

"Yeah, as long as he doesn't ask you to strip down to your G-string."

"Sam!"

"Lovely color on those cheeks."

G shot him a look.

"Oh I like it when you get ornery."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"Hot, steamy sex."

"Can we just curtail the sex talk while I'm here in the hospital?"

"Sure, sweetheart," Sam moved closer to his partner's side. "If you can wait that long."

"What?"

He stroked his partner's thigh, moving his hand higher with each upward stroke. "Can you wait that long?"

"Not much longer if you keep that up." G sighed. "You're trying to seduce me in the hospital."

"Yep, payback's a bitch," Sam said, grinning wide.

"Just get on the bed already and ravish my sexy body."

"No foreplay," he said, dead pan.

"I ought to—"

When a male nurse came into the room with wound cleaning supplies, they both stopped teasing and enticing one another.

"Saved again." He winked at him and crossed the room to sit by a single, tall, vertical window.

G shot him an if-looks-could-disintegrate-someone look.

"Poor sport."

"You always need to have the last word." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

"Damn," Sam said under his breath.

* * *

><p># # #<p>

* * *

><p>After the doctor left for the second time and an orderly transferred G upstairs into a private and secure room, he grumbled about being admitted to the hospital. "If you would've looked on the front too, I could go home right now."<p>

"Blaming me for your misery."

"Yeah, you forgot to check my chest for glass."

"I figured the leather jacket covered it."

"And it didn't cover my back?"

"All right, rub it in, I can take it." He chuckled. "I'm surprised with all our lovemaking that I didn't notice it."

"You did a damned good job taking care of me," G said. "Thank you. He said the piece of glass was imbedded under the skin. It would be difficult to notice. The doctor was impressed with your stitches."

"Too bad he didn't hike that hospital gown higher," Sam said. "He could've ogled my other piece of handiwork."

"Are we still playing tease?"

"Do we ever stop?"

"No."

"I'd like to climb into bed with you right now and canoodle you."

"You're obsessed with me," G said.

"I hope you mean that in a good way," Sam said. "I've got this horrible addiction and only one man can help me."

"Maybe after they hook me up to the IV antibiotics."

"Serious?"

"Yeah, heartthrob."

"Smooth move."

"Yep, thought so too." G closed his eyes. That memory which surfaced at the cottage in a rural area of Virginia was starting to make itself known again. He rolled over onto his side facing the wall.

"Hey, I know that look." Sam stroked his partner's shoulder. "The memory is back."

"Yeah."

"Sorry, sweetheart." He sat on the bedside and turned over, snuggling up to his partner and lover.

"Sam, someone's gonna see us."

"That's inevitable," he said. "You need me right now."

"I do."

Sam wrapped his right arm around his lover's waist and hugged him. "I missed you last night."

"You said that."

"Well, it bears repeating, I missed you, going on my ops wasn't the same without you."

G turned over onto his back. "What ops?"

"The NCIS DC team and our team had your back the entire time."

His jaw dropped.

"That's why the tracking device, sweetheart," he said. "When I said I have your back, I meant it literally."

"I had no idea," G said. "I suppose I missed out on the arrest of my former team members."

"I'm afraid so."

"Damn, I wanted to arrest them."

"If I remember correctly, you wanted to line them up and execute them."

"You're right," G said.

"NCIS's DC team arrested them," Sam said. "The duffle bag I packed was for our team."

"You could've told me about this."

"Nope, Hetty told me to keep it a secret."

"Why?"

"You needed to confront your nemesis," Sam said.

"You mean my arch rival."

"Yeah, your adversary."

"Arch enemy."

"The narcissistic, quintessential creep."

"You got the last word in again," G said, feigning an exaggerated pout.

"What can I say, I'm talented," Sam said, smooching with his lover.

"You forgot one, despot."

"You're a slave driver."

"You did it again." G wrapped his arms around his lover and pulled him down for a kiss.

"I've got to have you," Sam said, "Maybe later on tonight."

"In the hospital?"

"Where else?"

"At the hotel suite, let's wait," G said.

"Tease."

"Taunter."

"Oh, that's a good one, banterer," Sam said.

"How about this one, chain yanker." The corners of G's mouth turned upward.

"Damn, you got me on that one." Sam kissed him on the neck trailing his tongue down to his chest. He kissed around the now bandaged area on his chest. "I can make this feel better, faster." The right corner of his mouth turned upward.

"I'm sure you could, but it might not be sterile technique."

"Since when does making love to you require sterile technique." Sam chuckled.

"Damn, you got me that time," G said. "I thought I knew where you were going with that."

"You missed my cue." He kissed his lover again while running his fingers through the soft, blond hairs on G's chest.

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading my story. One more chapter and this story comes to an end. Reviews appreciated and welcomed.<p> 


	20. The Quintessential Treat, Ch 19

Well, this is it, the last chapter.

Thank you all for coming along on another adventure with G and Sam.

Thank you for all the reviews.

And last but not least, thank you for reading my story.

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Rogue Agents<strong>

**Rating: M**

**Slash Warning: **G/Sam

** Story Details and Full Disclaimer on prologue page: **_My stories are a work of __**my**__ imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon__. _This is a work intended for entertainment _outside the official storyline_ owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

**Reviews appreciated and welcomed.**

* * *

><p><strong>The Quintessential Treat<strong>

**Chapter 19**

Sam watched his partner and lover from the bullpen. G had spent the last two hours sitting and debriefing with Hetty about the ops. Their supervisor had insisted on being the debriefer after this ops. Sam wondered why. He knew G would soon share what had transpired in Hetty's office. When he saw his partner and lover leave her office, Sam refocused his attention on their ops report and expense account. He decided to relieve G from the paperwork. His partner needed the break.

"I saw you," G said, winking at his partner and stopping in front of his desk. "You can't fool me."

Sam glanced up from the report on his laptop computer. "What?"

"Yeah, right, acting all innocent." He leaned over the desk, getting closer to him. "I can't wait until tonight," he said, lowering his voice.

"Taunter." Sam winked at him.

"Yep, love to mess with your mind and body."

"What did she say?"

"Take the rest of the day off… and with you."

"Aw, I like her." He glanced around his partner and eyed Hetty. She still sat at her desk and now with a slight smirk on her face. "Let's get out of here now before she changes her mind."

"She won't." G strode over to his desk and gathered his belongings. He came back over to Sam's desk and waited for him to pack up his gear.

They walked out of the bullpen toward the exit, Sam with his arm around G's waist. Both men climbed into their red metallic Challenger and closed the doors.

"I want to know what that was all about," Sam asked.

"Never told you about what I did with Brad," G said. "I kept her on the phone with the line open, while I confronted and received a confession from him."

"She asked you to do that?"

"Hell no, I felt obligated to keep her informed." He stared out the front window.

"There's more to this than you're willing to say."

"I need to go home, my house, now, take me home." G turned to stare out the passenger window and buckled his seatbelt.

Sam reached across the center console and grasped his lover's left hand before it left the seatbelt. "You're under no obligation to share," he said. "Let's forget about—"

"Damn it, stop this." He wrenched his hand free, unbuckled his seatbelt, and leaped out of the car. G faced the wall opposite of the headquarter's entrance and crossed his arms.

Sam came around to the passenger's side of the car and leaned against the front fender, crossing his arms.

"I shot him, execution style, and I don't feel anything and it bothers me," he said, unmoving from his position. "Hetty said it may take some time to feel anything about what happened with Brad. Maybe I just blocked it all out. Maybe I'm just like him. Maybe I'm just a narcissist. Makes me question my motives. Was I a rogue agent when I slaughtered him as a pig? Or was I doing my job, getting rid of the garbage? Did I go rogue on him? Crap. I can't do this any more. I can't keep second guessing everything I do."

Sam stepped along side his partner. "Then stop."

"How?"

"Just stop questioning what you did and live with it."

"Easy for you to say, you didn't kill someone in cold blood," G said. "I pressed my handgun to the back of his head and fired. I felt nothing. No remorse. No sadness. No regret. Nothing."

"And that's perfect."

G glanced sideways at his partner. "Perfect?"

"Yeah, the guy tortured, mind controlled, raped, and abused you," Sam said. "You're not gonna have a love loss."

"I expected to feel something."

"Maybe it's numbness."

"Nate said no, damn it, I wish he was wrong." After two hours debriefing with their operational psychologist, G still felt nothing about what transpired along a state highway in Virginia.

"What's the problem with feeling nothing?"

"Afraid I'm just like him." G shifted his weight from his left foot to his right foot.

"Makes sense, and you're not."

"Why do you say that?"

"You're the most passionate man I know," Sam said, "and I can prove it to you. Let's go to your place and make love."

Tears welled up in G's sapphire blue eyes. "Afraid I'll hurt you."

"That's why you've avoided me and made excuses after we returned from Washington DC." He wrapped an arm around his lover's waist.

"Yeah, afraid I'll treat you the same way I treated Brad."

"You won't, sweetheart," Sam said. "You were justified in killing him."

"That's what Hetty said too."

"And?"

Damn. G turned into his lover's side. "Hold me, damn it, tight."

Sam wrapped both arms around him and rocked him from side to side. "You're gonna be okay." He kissed the top of his head.

"I kicked him and pushed him down the stairs," G said. "I didn't care whether he got hurt or whether he suffered."

"Brad deserved whatever he received from you," Sam said, pulling back from their tight embrace. "He had it coming. Think about it this way. After the guy revealed his partner in the White House, you did him a favor."

G gazed up into Sam's eyes. "You mean, it was a rogue agent assisted suicide." The corners of his mouth turned upward.

"Smart-ass."

"I thought so too," he said. "The ops gave me a new respect and different perspective about going rogue. It will happen again and only with Hetty's permission."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Glad to hear I'll go rogue."

"No, that you'll ask Hetty first." The corners of Sam's mouth turned upward.

G slugged Sam in the arm. "Smart-ass!" He gazed up into Sam's eyes again. "I want to go to my house and make love to you."

"Now you're talking," he said. He drew his lover into his arms, leaned over, and planted a soft kiss on G's mouth.

* * *

><p><strong># # #<strong>

* * *

><p>"Where do you plan to spend your monetary awards?" Sam stretched and yawned. He enjoyed laying in his lover's arms after their lovemaking on G's king-sized bed.<p>

"I never expected the President to triple both monetary awards," G said, snuggling closer to his lover. "I guess he liked my work." He chuckled which came out as if it were a snort. "I thought maybe I'd buy the car you really want."

Sam rolled his lover onto his back and laid on him lengthwise. "Who says I don't want a red metallic Challenger?"

"Come on, man, Sheryl was special, and I can't imagine you'd want any other color." He wrapped an arm around the back his lover's neck and drew him closer. "She was iconic."

He sighed. "You don't get it do you." Sam enveloped his lover's mouth and pressed his tongue deep inside, kissing him until they were both breathless. "It's not about me any more. It's about _us_." Tears welled up in his cocoa colored eyes. "I love you. I want to _share_ the rest of my life _with_ _you._"

G swallowed hard. "I… damn… no words."

"Good, for once I get in the last word without a comeback from you," Sam said, winking at him. "I'd like us to look for a house together. I can almost match your monetary awards with the money in my savings account."

Tears welled up in G's sapphire blue eyes.

Sam rolled onto his back and pulled his lover with him. "You okay?"

He nodded.

He surrounded G's shoulders with both arms and rocked him in his arms. "Hit a sore spot?"

"A tender spot." He turned his head, resting it on Sam's chest. "This is for real then."

"What?" Sam lifted his lover's chin and gazed into his glistening blue eyes. "Need me to pinch you?"

"I'll skip it, thanks anyway." The left corner of his mouth turned upward.

Sam lowered one hand to G's nearly bare ass and grabbed the G-string. "Or maybe you need a snap of this to wake you up to this new reality of us."

"Believe me, I'll skip that too."

"I guess there's only one more thing which will prove my love for you," Sam said.

"And?"

"Hey, that's my line." The right side of his mouth turned upward. Sam slipped his hand under a pillow and presented his lover with an ocean blue, velvet ring box. "G, will you do me the honor and marry me?"

G's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Tears threatened to spill over the edge of his eyelashes. "I, damn, I never expected this." He surrounded Sam's neck with both arms canoodling him.

Sam broke away from his lover's amorous lovemaking. "I guess this means yes."

"Yes, of course, I love you."

"Let's make this official." He removed the ring from the velvet box and grasped G's left hand, pushing the thick gold band onto his lover's ring finger. Sam kissed the ring and rolled G onto his back, canoodling him until his lover was breathless.

"This is what I needed," G said. "I didn't know I needed it."

"Care to share."

"It solidifies in my mind that we are a couple, a partnership beyond our working relationship."

"You weren't certain before this."

"I didn't say that," G said, getting flustered.

"Okay, then what?"

"It wasn't a solid framework in my mind."

"Framework?"

"I know, that doesn't sound too romantic." The corners of his mouth turned upward. "It works for me."

"That's all that matters." Sam planted a claiming kiss on G's mouth. "I love you, sweetheart."

"And now I know that is 100% true."

Sam grasped his lover's hand and kissed his ring finger. "Ready for our special tryst at NCIS Headquarters?"

G's jaw dropped. "Crap, I thought you'd skip it."

"You mean as in me skipping a pull on this and allowing it snap back in place." Sam held the G-string in his hand.

"If you do that one more time, I won't wear these to our tryst at NCIS Headquarters."

"Tempting." He gently released the G-string and caressed his lover's spot. "But I'm too attached to seeing you wear them in the OPS Center.

"You enticing me again?"

"Working on it." Sam kissed him again. "Let's get ready to go. Our appointment is in two hours."

"Appointment?" G's eyes widened.

"Window of opportunity."

"I'd love to watch the sunset over LA with you from NCIS Headquarters," G said, kissing Sam again. "And this tryst here in my bed… damn… it was perfect."

* * *

><p><strong># # #<strong>

* * *

><p>After their steamy tryst in the OPS Center, Sam and G dressed in their sweats and plodded down the stairs to the break area off the bullpen.<p>

Sam fixed a snack for his lover and himself.

G stepped behind him and surrounded Sam's waist with both arms. "That was… no words."

"Left you speechless, good, that was my intent." He leaned back into his lover.

"What are you making?"

"It's a surprise," Sam said. "You need to you get the blanket out of the car."

"There's more?"

"Yep, one more tryst of a different kind."

G released his arms and strode to the front doors of NCIS. Upon opening the them, his jaw dropped. "What the?" He rushed back into the bullpen and up to Sam's side. "I think Santa arrived early this year."

"Santa?" He asked. "It's not even close to Christmas."

G grasped his lover's hand and guided him to the front doors. "You're not gonna believe this." He opened the doors and watched his lover's jaw drop in shock.

"What the?" Sam strode over to the black metallic Challenger with a huge red satin bow attached to the roof. "She didn't." Tears welled up in his cocoa colored eyes.

"She did."

"Did you put her up to this?"

"Nope," G said.

Sam opened the driver's door and settled down in the seat. "It's next year's model with all the upgrades." He stroked the dashboard as if it were a long lost lover.

G opened the passenger's door and sat down in the seat. "She's beautiful," he said. "What are you naming her?"

"Sheryl II." He grasped his lover's hand and kissed it. "I can't believe she did this." Tears formed in the inner corners of his eyes.

G opened the glove compartment. "Maybe she didn't." He removed a handwritten note with a distinctive letterhead and signature. "Here, I think this explains it."

Sam took the note from his lover and read it aloud.

'_Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna, Thank you for your excellent service to your country and for protecting our national security. Yours sincerely, POTUS._'

Sam's jaw dropped a second time. "Damn."

"Let's take her for a spin."

"I want to watch the sunset with you first."

"And you said you weren't a romantic man." G climbed out of the Challenger, grabbed the amethyst and ocean blue, polar fleece blanket off the backseat of the red metallic Challenger, and strode toward the front doors of headquarters. Sam followed him inside. "We taking the red one back?" G stopped and turned to face Sam before they reached the bullpen.

"Hell no, man, that's our personal vehicle," he said. "You still like her?"

"Of course, she's ours."

"Precisely." Sam drew his lover into a hug. "I can't believe the President did that. He awarded you with two medals and tripled your award money. That's unheard of. Head up to the rooftop while I fix our special post tryst meal."

"I can't wait to see what you're making."

"Nothing fancy," he said. "It's a simple treat and delicious."

G gave Sam a peck on the lips and strode toward the stairs.

* * *

><p><strong># # #<strong>

* * *

><p>Sam climbed onto the rooftop at NCIS Headquarters with a small duffle bag over one shoulder. He sat behind G, drawing his lover backward between his spread legs.<p>

G leaned against his lover's chest and sighed. "It's gonna be a stunning sunset," he said. Low on the horizon, a sharp line of bright red edged the clouds as the sun slipped below them.

"Yeah." He surrounded his lover's waist with both arms. "I love you."

"And now you're the happiest man I know."

"I never thought I'd see another black metallic Challenger," Sam said. "It didn't matter one way or another. We have Red Hot Chili, our red metallic Challenger. I liked the name we chose together. We've had some sizzling trysts in Red Hot Chili." Sam nuzzled G's neck and kissed him there. He released his arms and settled his duffle bag on the rooftop.

"We need to take Sheryl II for a spin," G said. "And after that we need to properly christen her." He closed his eyes and imagined all the trysts they would share with each other in the new Challenger and their new house together. "I love you."

Sam reached inside the duffle bag and removed a thermos. He poured the steaming hot liquid into two mugs. Sam handed a mug and a red cloth napkin to his lover.

G took a long sip. "You trying to get me drunk." He savored another sip of the hot chocolate spiked with Peppermint Schnapps.

"Wouldn't be that bad," he said. "Then I can take you home to my house and make love to you again."

"Or we can go back to my place," G said, relaxing into his lover as the Peppermint Schnapps soothed his senses. "Or we can go shopping for a new house together."

"Close your eyes, sweetheart, and open your mouth." He pulled out a warming bag and removed the second surprise for his lover. Sam placed a corner of the mystery fare in G's mouth. "Take a bite."

G bit into a crispy sandwich. "Pièce de résistance!" The corners of his mouth turned upward. G took another morsel, savoring the bittersweet dark chocolate and sweet, gooey melted marshmallows sandwiched between two crunchy graham crackers. "Finally, a real s'more sandwich, the quintessential treat for insatiable lovers."

* * *

><p>Again, thank you for reading my story!<p>

The End.


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